Broken Together
by VanillaAshes
Summary: When Clint's wife dies, leaving him to look after his two young children on his own, he has to work out how to continue being an agent of SHIELD and a father. Pre-Avengers. Clintasha story. Their time at SHIELD. Characters from AoS will be present, hence the crossover!
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

 **Hello! Here is another story from me, and I've gone back to my routes a little with Marvel- as this story is Clintasha!**

 **This is set about four years before the Avengers, and a year or two after Natasha joined SHIELD.**

 **I'm not sure there's much more I can say in the first chapter, apart from, I hope you like it!**

* * *

Natasha paced the confines of her room. Clint had been gone for fifteen days- _fifteen_. She groaned. He had convinced her to abandon her country, turn on them and then join this organisation. She had been on three missions, all with Clint, all while being watched. In fact, she was still being watched, intently, by everybody. There were cameras on her 24/7- in her bedroom, the hallways, during training- and even though she hadn't located the ones in her bathroom, she was sure they were there. And now Clint was gone.

Clint had told her he would be back shortly, that he had a 'personal matter' to attend to, and hadn't been back. She didn't know _anybody_ else here. Of course she knew names, she had been introduced to them, but without Clint there, she was just an assassin. That and there was no chance of her being treated like an actual agent here; she was nobody.

Natasha sighed deeply. It had taken a year for Clint to leave her- to abandon her. She should have expected it- in fact, she _had_ expected it- but she also had hope… and she believed him when he told her she wouldn't have to go through this alone. But now… _now_ … he was gone. Over two weeks. The longest he had been gone previously was for six days, and he had told her beforehand.

She grabbed her phone, finally calling him. She was a very patient person, but she wanted to know he was giving up, wanted to know if all it took was just over a year for her to be abandoned. The phone was supposed to be used for emergencies, but right now she didn't care.

 _Ring. Ring._

"Barton." He answered.

Natasha took a split second to compose herself after the mild shock from him actually answering. "You're alive, then."

"I am. What's going on?" Clint questioned, sounding tired.

Now that she had him on the phone- and, more importantly, he wasn't dodging her calls- she had no idea what to actually say. She wasn't known for her words.

"Natasha?"

There it was, that name, the way he said it. She almost sighed in response. "When are you coming back?" She asked.

"I'm not sure. There's… something I have to deal with." Clint replied, his tone regretful.

"Bullshit. What could possibly take you fifteen days to do?" Natasha questioned. If he didn't want to work with her anymore, he could have just said so. She wasn't a little girl who would break, and she hated being messed around with.

He was silent for a moment. "It's nothing. I'll be back soon, most likely." He said dismissively.

"'Most likely'?" Natasha spat out in disgust. "Don't bother." She hung up the phone- she couldn't be bothered to deal with somebody who would dismiss her in that manner. He had spoken so much on trust and believing in each other- and now he was just throwing her to the side. Well, she didn't need him and she would not put up with somebody treating her like this.

She grabbed her bag momentarily, ready to leave right then and there. But then she looked around the room- the lack of handcuffs on her bed, the pillows, the freedom. Even though nobody trusted her here, when she had been injured, nobody hesitated to rush to aid her. Stepping to the door, she dropped her bag; there were no locks. Her hand grasped the handle, the cool metal, and pulled- there was no resistance as the door opened. There were no guards, nobody to stop her as she walked down the corridor freely past other agents.

Nobody was stopping her; she could easily escape because there were no immediate threats or anybody physically holding her there.

Natasha came to a halt, pursing her lips.

"Are you okay, Agent?" Somebody asked her.

Natasha looked at the agent, having no idea who he was; his short hair was curly and he was definitely not a field operative. There was genuine concern on his face, and at that moment, she decided to stay. "Yes, just… having complications with my partner- he's AWOL with some personal matters that he won't tell me about." Before meeting Clint, Natasha would have had no intention of telling _anybody_ that much about what was going on with her, even if she were about to snap their necks, and now she was unloading on a random agent- one who looked like he hadn't even graduated from the academy.

"Oh. Is this a _partner_ partner? Of course a partner would be a _partner_ partner, but I meant a romantic partner or a work partner?" He babbled.

"Work."

"Right. Of course. Not of course, I'm sure you have a romantic partner- not that you need one." He trailed off. "Sorry, I'm Leo Fitz." His hand abruptly extended to shake hers.

Natasha shook it, pulling back quickly. "Natasha Romanoff."

By the look on Fitz's face, he had just figured out who she was. "Can I take a picture with you? Simmons would be so jealous that I met you."

Natasha blinked in surprise; that was not the reaction she had expected. "Sure." She agreed, only because without Clint, she supposed allies would be helpful- after all, that was what everybody advised her to have. She stepped closer to him to get into the image, staring at it patiently.

"Smile." He said, making her glare slightly in his direction as the flash went off. "Thank you."

"Bye." She muttered, turning and walking back to her room. She heard him call a goodbye after her, but ignored it. Right now she needed to work out where she stood with S.H.I.E.L.D when Clint wasn't around.

* * *

Natasha pulled herself up for the twenty-third time- the best thing she had asked for was a pull-up bar in her in her quarters.

Clint eased into her room. "Hey, Nat," he greeted, looking exhausted.

Natasha dropped down to the ground, staring at him for a few moments. "Don't call me Nat- I hate that name." She responded emotionlessly, turning away from him and grabbing a towel, wiping it over her face and neck.

"Okay… Hey, Natasha." He corrected, sitting on the edge of her thin mattress. "Get into any trouble while I was gone?" His face insisted he was just teasing, though his eyes… they looked… _tired_. Old. It was slightly unnerving.

"What do you want, Barton?" Natasha questioned coldly, looking at him straight in the eyes- trying to see past everything he was putting on to work out what was going on. She was never one for small talk, although she half wished she had been willing to try it in this circumstance- but not enough to actually do so.

He held up his arms placatingly. "I just wanted to see how you were doing." He defended. "I know I was gone for a long time, and I'm sorry."

Natasha scoffed. "I'm fine; still alive. You?" She replied slightly patronisingly, harshly and coldly- but there was the slightest hint of curiosity and concern.

"I'm fine," He answered, though his eyes screamed 'I'm not fine.' "Just… had a rough few weeks, I guess. Any of the agents give you any trouble?" That was an attempt at redirection if she'd ever seen one.

"No. What's going on?" Natasha demanded. Upon him not immediately replying, she continued; only Clint managed to get her to talk more than three words in a whole conversation. "Barton, what the fuck happened to you? You just disappeared on me, breaking a promise- I thought you were different."

Clint rubbed at his eyes and sighed. "I _am_ different. It's not my fault- it was a personal emergency." He explained halfheartedly, voice now as tired as he eyes looked. "Or am I not allowed to be there for my-" He broke off, seeming to think better of what he'd been about to say.

Natasha stared at him silently, cold and collected. If he didn't think she was worth explaining something to, then he wasn't worth her replying.

He seemed to sense this immediately. "Come on, don't be like that. I'm not doing all of this to spite you."

"You know more about me than _anybody_. Always telling me it is good to open up, to talk, to _trust_ you. I didn't realise that didn't go both ways." Natasha replied, dropping her towel onto her bed next to Clint before leaning against the wall- her room was small, but putting the maximum distance between them in the small space represented everything she wanted.

Clint's eyes were practically pleading, but at her stubborn glare, he finally seemed to give in. "My wife died three weeks ago." He blurted, not meeting her eyes.

Natasha froze, her body going rigid. He had a wife? "My condolences." She muttered, unable to fully process what he had just said. He had a wife, who was now dead. "Was she an agent?" She questioned before wondering if she shouldn't ask any questions.

"She used to be." He responded somewhat wistfully. "She was a secret… She stayed home and took care of things behind the scenes."

"Are you here to ask me to take out whoever killed her? Because if so, I'm in." Natasha replied, her eyes slightly skeptical. He was keeping something from her. Something about his wife, or his personal life- after the amount of times he had practically forced her to reveal her past, it was only fair she did the same thing.

He smiled somewhat sadly, it not quite reaching his eyes. "No, unless you know a way to kill cancer."

"That sucks." Natasha commented blatantly. "Well, if you don't need me for a mission, what are you doing here?" She asked, keeping everything in her mind. Him coming here in the first place didn't make sense if he didn't want anything from her. Maybe the reason he came had something to do with what he was hiding from her.

"Just thought I'd explain why I left," He answered, standing. "If you don't want me here, I'm gonna head to my room and sleep." He made for the door.

Natasha shook her head. "No- does this mean you're staying?"

He paused. "For a few days. I need to work out how I'll be working in the future."

"You're leaving S.H.I.E.L.D." Natasha stated. If he'd thought her voice had been closed off before, he was wrong. Because now she was completely closed off. He came back to say goodbye; she hated goodbyes.

"Not really _leaving_ … just changing my work schedule, I suppose." He answered. "I'll still be in touch."

"So, you're leaving." Natasha repeated, opening her door. "I'd like you to leave."

There was a momentary flash of something that looked like hurt on his features before he schooled his expression and exited. "If that's what you want…"

Natasha stared at him, not really wanting him to leave but also not being able to stay in the same room as him right now. "If you're leaving, say so. If you ever want to tell me what's going on, I'll be here. Until then, what else is there for us to talk about?" She questioned rhetorically, telling him the only options she was currently prepared to follow through on.

He shook his head. "I don't know," he admitted. "But I'll always be here for you, Nat, I promise. I'm not abandoning you." He said solemnly, maintaining solid eye contact.

"Then why is it that, after a year of knowing each other, it seems like I know nothing about you?" Natasha asked, but instead of waiting for a response, she closed the door softly. Stepping back, she waited a few minutes- waiting for him to come back in. But he didn't.

* * *

 **Thanks for reading! What did you think?**


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:**

 **Hello! A lovely response on my first chapter! Thank you very much to all of you!**

 **Thank you to the three who reviewed: sherlockavengersfan, rbavenger, grossly-sweet! Especially sherlockavengersfan who informed me of a little error on my end!**

* * *

Natasha paced around the building twice before finally stopping at Clint's door- it would have normally taken her only three minutes to get there if she had walked slowly. She wasn't even sure if he was still there but knocked anyway.

He pulled the door open by the third knock, looking more rested but still tired. "Nat? What's up?" He asked conversationally, only slightly confused-sounding.

"What am I supposed to be doing? You're the only person who trains with me, or goes on a mission with me- and without you around, it appears I'm not allowed to do either." Natasha stated, waiting expectantly for an immediate reply, to be told her orders.

Clint scrubbed tiredly at his face and beckoned for her to follow him inside. "C'mon in," He invited belatedly.

She hesitated for a split second but walked into his room and leant against the wall in the corner. Her eyes scanned the room, taking in all of the changes since last time she had been here, even though there were only a few. "You look better." She commented as a small attempt to be civil.

"I don't feel that much better," he replied with a small chuckle, sitting on his couch with a _plop_. "Are you okay? You seem more distant than usual."

"Who should I be open with?" Natasha asked. "Am I getting a new partner, or are you coming back?"

He sighed. "I'll still be around- just not as often." He said somewhat apologetically. "You can still be open with me."

Natasha glared at him- he hadn't answered her question. "How do you expect me to be open with you when I know you're not being open with me?" She questioned. "What is my mission? What do you want me to do when you're not around?" She asked strongly, her eyes demanding an answer.

Clint looked unsure. "Your mission? Why should I decide what you do when I'm not around?" He asked. "Do something that you enjoy- read a book or something." He opened his mouth to continue the thought, but was interrupted by a phone ringing. He pulled his phone from his pocket, gave her an apologetic look, and answered it. "Hello, this is Barton… Hey, Buddy." His tone softened. "No, I'm doing work stuff right now. How are things over there?... Really? Tell her I said it's okay, as long as you wash the dishes afterward. Alright? Okay. We'll talk later… Alright, bye, Coop." He hung up, a small smile on his face.

"Who's Coop?" Natasha asked him simply, a thousand possibilities running through her mind.

Clint seemed to internally debate whether to tell her or not, shoulders eventually slumping in defeat. "Cooper… He's my son." He admitted.

Son. He has a son. "Why aren't you with him? Children are more important than work." Natasha commented, her tone sharp.

"I told you- I'm sorting things out here. After that I'm going back home to them."

Natasha took a moment to process his words. Them. More than one child was the obvious conclusion- but he could also be referring to a brother or babysitter and his son. "How old are your children?" She asked, gambling that she was correct in thinking his slip up of saying 'them' meant more than one child.

He paused, staring at her for a moment before confessing, "Cooper's five, and Lila's almost three."

She nodded. "What book?"

"Book? Oh, yeah- uhm, whatever book you want to read, I guess. I'm not your dictator or whatever." He responded.

Her gaze fell through the floor. "Well, if you're not my dictator anymore, can you tell me who is?" She requested.

Clint sighed in exasperation. "Dear God, Nat- you're a grown-ass woman! You're allowed _some_ freedom, you know!" He cried. "I'm not _your_ dad! I don't make choices about how you spend your freetime! And I don't choose who _does_!"

Natasha's jaw clenched; she had never wanted to punch Clint so much in her life- even when she had discovered him attempting to kill her back in Russia. She pulled his door open and stormed out, letting it slam behind her as she walked back to her room.

* * *

"Hey, Nat," Clint called, knocking on her door, a folder in hand. When she didn't immediately answer, he got a bit impatient and knocked louder. "Nat! Open up!" It had been about nineteen hours since she'd stormed out of his room, and things had been undeniably tense between them; still, surely she wouldn't leave him out in the hallway forever, right?

The door unlocked and opened, revealing Natasha in just a towel. "Come on in." Her hair was wet and there was water dripping down her body, showing that she had gotten out of the shower to answer the door.

He followed her inside and set the folder on the coffee table before sitting on her pristine couch. "I've got a mission for you- a pretty simple one, too. You don't even need to leave." He informed.

"I accept." She responded, turning around and pulling a t-shirt over her head and towel before putting on a dressing gown. "What is it?"

He smirked. "You're going to flirt with a guy online to get information about a human trafficking operation nearby. All information you need to get started is in here." He patted the folder. "You've got a smooth tongue, so I'm sure this'll be a piece of cake for you."

"I'll start on it tonight." Natasha answered, slipping past him and picking it up, glancing over the words. She pointed to the book on the bed. "I chose to read _The Lord of the Rings_."

"Oh, sounds interesting," he commented rather politely. "A real page-turner, I take it?" When had this become book club? He wasn't much of a reader, honestly.

Natasha shrugged nonchalantly. "I read it in a few hours, but I wouldn't read it again if I had the choice."

"Ah…" He trailed off, not quite sure how to respond. "So… how's life?" He asked quite awkwardly. Damn, when had things ever been awkward between them? Why was it suddenly so tense between them? Well, he knew why, but it was still odd.

"Better, now that you've given me a mission." Natasha answered simply. "How are… your children?"

His thoughts went to sweet little Lila and Cooper. "They're doing okay, considering… Although Lila's going through some separation anxiety lately."

"You should be there with them. You are being selfish by being here- they need you." Natasha told him blandly.

He chuckled; he could always count on Natasha to be extremely blunt. "I told you- it's only temporary while I set up a new work schedule." He insisted. "But you're right; I should spend more time with them."

"They just lost their mother! Their whole world has been ripped from under their feet- your work schedule can wait. Your children cannot!" Natasha growled at him.

Woah- where had that come from? He backed up in his seat a little, raising his arms in defense. "I _know_ that! I'm _trying_ to be a good father! It's just very hard- I'm the only one who makes the money to keep them fed and happy, and now I can't even do that! I need to work this out or we'll be broke."

"Then take all of my money- all of those wages you keep telling me are increasing in my bank account. I don't need it. I stay here, anyway, and they pay for it for me. I don't need the money; take it all. Spend it on your children." Natasha said before throwing her debit card at him. "You know all of my details."

Clint caught the card but didn't put it away. "Hang on, Nat! I'm not going to take your money! It's yours!" He argued, trying to hand it back to her. "We'll get along somehow, don't worry!"

Natasha refused to take the card. "I don't need it, Clint. You've done so much for me, so let me repay you."

Sighing, he finally relented after another minute of fruitless denying. "Fine. I will take a _small_ portion. But that's it." He compromised. "That should easily last us until I can figure out work."

She looked down hesitantly, which was unusual for her. "I'm not really allowed to do much- _still_. So, if you needed a babysitter, I could make sure nobody kills them for you."

Clint was sure he was staring for a full ten seconds before he caught himself. "Are you offering to watch my kids, Nat?" He asked carefully, not wanting to sound judgemental.

"I take it back, then. I'm sure you have a boatload of potential babysitters." Natasha sat down on her bed, picking up her folder and looking through it as she reached for her laptop.

"No, no, hang on," he interrupted, catching her attention. "I appreciate the offer, Natasha, and I'll certainly keep it in mind." He said pointedly to let her know that her offering hadn't been badly received.

She looked at him, pausing but nodding slightly. "Sure." It was obvious she didn't believe him, and she didn't even bother hiding her thoughts on that.

He pulled a face. "Seriously, I mean it." He insisted. "I would love if you could watch them sometime."

"What is your new schedule going to be like?" Natasha asked, changing the subject as she pulled her laptop onto the bed.

"Well… I'm hoping to work on Tuesdays and Thursdays and then do more work from home on Mondays and Fridays. That gives me the weekends with the kids." He explained.

Natasha nodded. "What about Wednesdays?"

"Like I said, I'm still figuring the schedule, so I haven't worked out what I'll do on Wednesdays yet."

Once again she replied with a nod, turning her main focus to what she was typing on the laptop. "Let me know where I stand when you figure it out."

He could see it was a dismissal, so he stood and made for the door. "Will do, Captain," he teased, closing the door behind him.

* * *

 **Thank you for reading!**

 **If you have time, I'd love a review!**

 **I hope you all have a tremendous Easter!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:**

 **Oh, hey there! I wasn't expecting you!**

 **Huge thank you to the reviewers of the previous chapter:** **sherlockavengersfan, princess2016, grossly-sweet. You are amazing!**

 **And wow! 15 followers! And 7 favs? Amazing! Thank you!**

* * *

Natasha stepped into the office, barely allowing her knuckles to tap against the door twice as warning. "You summoned me." She stated, informing them of the reason why she had arrived.

"Yes, come in and take a seat." Fury replied as he turned to face her before taking his seat right after her. "I wanted to talk to you about your partner." He informed her.

"What about Barton?" Natasha asked. She was curious to know his new schedule and planned to ask him when she next saw him.

Fury gave a small bow of his head to confirm that they were, indeed, talking about the same man. "A few unforeseeable events now mean that Barton is unavailable for missions at this current time- therefore, I would like to offer you the opportunity of selecting a partner out of a list I've made."

Natasha stared at him for a few moments. A new partner? "I'd rather work alone." She replied simply. Partner work involved a lot of trust, and there was no way she would be able to learn to trust somebody before Clint was back at work- therefore, it was pointless.

"I'm afraid that's not an option." Fury replied.

She knew what he meant; they didn't trust her enough to let her out on missions by herself- she needed a babysitter. "Then I won't go on any missions- I'll wait for Barton."

He stared silently at her, and she was tempted to get up and walk out- it seemed like a clear ending to the discussion to her. However, she could tell by his stance that he had more to say. "Very well." He replied. "Your mission will take place with a team heading to Las Vegas. It's in a different casino; this is your target." He informed her, handing over a file.

"Simple assassination?" Natasha asked, flicking through the file, needing to know if she had to get information out of him before killing him.

"No. He must remain alive." Fury insisted, making her look up at him. "You need to get back to his room and copy everything on his laptop without him realising or ever finding out. Understand?"

Natasha bowed her head in understanding. "Yes, Sir."

Fury stood up, an obvious dismissal. "You leave at nineteen hundred hours. Meet at Underground Hangar B."

She nodded, even though he was no longer looking at her, and walked out of the room.

* * *

Clint hefted the three-year-old onto his hip and tickled under her chin with his nose, laughing at the childish giggles that escaped her. "Daddy, you'we home!" She cried. "Look at my looth toof!" She stuck her chubby little finger into her mouth and wiggled said loose tooth. Cooper was attached to his leg in a monster hug, going on and on about how unfair Aunt Bobbi had been when she refused to give him two servings of ice cream for his dessert. "And I _ate_ all my bro'li, too!" The child was exclaiming. Despite the cacophony, Clint smiled; he'd missed these two so much. He ignored the pang in his heart when the usual hug from his wife never came.

"Did you two behave?" He asked when they'd both paused for a breath.

"Uh huh! We didn't fight or nothing!" Cooper reported, Lila nodding in agreement. "An' we brushed our teeth and read books!"

"And Aunt Bobbi towd us bettime storieth!" Lila cried, lisping around a gap in her baby teeth.

"I'm glad to hear it. Now, who wants to get some grub, eh?" There were excited squeals in response, answering the question for him. Chuckling, he watched as the two ran into the kitchen, moving to follow them.

There was a knock on the door, so quick that he almost didn't hear it. Sighing, he changed routes and went to check the security feed from the front door camera. Standing impatiently on his front porch was the last person he'd expected- Natasha Romanoff, red hair blowing into her face in the strong country wind. How did she find this place? She wasn't supposed to know the location- nobody knew it except Fury!

He unlocked the various locks and pulled the door open. "Nat? What are you doing here?" He demanded, skipping a polite greeting. He was sure she didn't care about skipped formalities.

"They offered me a new partner." She informed him almost accusingly.

"They… what?" He asked, eyes wide. "Did you decline?"

Behind him came the pitter-patter of little feet. "Daddy? Who'th see?" Lila asked, pointing to Natasha and hiding behind her father's leg. Clint sighed.

"This is Na-" He paused. He didn't want his children calling adults by their first names- he was trying to teach them to respect their elders. He opened his mouth again to say 'Ms. Romanoff', but Natasha beat him to it.

"I'm Natasha." She informed the young girl, her face forming the softest expression he had ever seen on her as she bent down. "I work with your daddy. It's very nice to meet you." She offered her hand to Lila.

The girl looked up at Clint questioningly, and he nodded his approval, so she carefully put her hand forward and placed it in Natasha's. "Lila." She said.

"Daddy? Is this our aunt or somethin'?" Cooper asked as he approached.

"What? No. She's a friend of mine- Natasha."

Cooper smiled widely. "I'm Cooper!" He introduced.

"Hello, Cooper. It's great to meet you," Natasha replied with a smile. "Your dad talks about both of you so much."

Lila giggled. "Reawy?" She asked shyly.

Cooper elbowed her gently. "Of course he does- he's our daddy!" He explained, to which Lila nodded in agreement.

Clint turned back to Natasha. "Did you decline the new partner?"

Natasha looked up at him. "Of course I declined the new partner." She replied matter-of-factly before returning her attention to the children. "You two should head in; it's a bit chilly out here and you're not wearing your coats."

"Aw! You sound just like Aunt Bobbi!" Cooper complained, trudging back to the kitchen. Lila stepped forward and grabbed Natasha's hand.

"You'we coming too, wight?" She asked innocently, batting her eyelashes. "You can eat wif uth!" Without waiting for an answer, she pulled Natasha through the door, past Clint- who was honestly quite amused. He closed and locked the front door and followed them to the kitchen.

Natasha was awkwardly standing to one side. "Clint, we need to talk… alone." She muttered to him as soon as he was in hearing range.

Clint frowned a little at her. "Not right now we don't. I'm spending some quality time with my kids, and you're apparently doing so as well. Now, what do we want for dinner?" This question was directed at everyone.

"Oh! Oh! Pancakes!" Cooper exclaimed from the counter, where he was seated expectantly.

"Bacon!" Lila shouted over him, pouting when his answer was different from hers. "No, we'we having _bacon_ , Coopewe!" She scolded her older brother.

Sighing- ah, the joys of having young children- Clint knelt beside her. "Lila, we can't _just_ have bacon for dinner. How about we have pancakes _and_ bacon? Sound good?" Effectively pacified, Lila nodded eagerly and tugged Nat's hand.

"Do you like pancaketh and bacon?"

"Yes… but surely that's not an _actual_ dinner." Natasha replied, looking at Clint.

He chuckled and stood. "We're a 'breakfast for dinner' kind of family." He explained. "We don't do it very often, since it's not very healthy, but it's a sure favourite, and I think this counts as a special enough occasion." He began gathering the pancake mix and a skillet.

Natasha glanced at the children and sat down. "I didn't even know you _could_ cook… does he make good pancakes?" She asked the kids.

Lila giggled. "Thomtimth." She whispered conspiratorially.

"Yeah, sometimes they're great, and sometimes they get stuck to the ceiling!" Cooper chipped in. "That's why Mo-" he completely shut that sentence down, face falling.

Natasha grasped his shoulder gently. "I'll bet he gets them stuck on the ceiling again. What do you think?" She asked softly.

He brightened a little, though the hyperactivity from earlier was gone. "Totally!" He declared.

"I fink he'we get it in his haiwe again!" Lila decided. Clint smirked a little. They'd see about that.

"This coming from the girl who manages to get pancakes everywhere on her face _except_ for in her mouth." He commented. Lila laughed and Cooper joined in.

* * *

After a rather messy dinner, it was time for Clint to put the kids to bed. This was where things got tricky- Laura was always much better at tucking the kids in. She could tell stories she made up on the spot, she could sing them lullabies, she had the patience to lay in bed with them until they fell asleep. Clint couldn't do those things nearly as well as her. But he would try.

"I don' wanna go to bed!" Lila exclaimed, jumping merrily on her mattress. Clint sighed and grabbed her, forcing her to sit down, but she just stuck out her tongue and stood up again.

"Lila, honey, it's past your bedtime." He said tiredly. Cooper had gone to bed without this much of a fuss, but the process had still been tiring as he'd had to explain to his son what life would be like now- even though they'd had this talk four times already. "Seriously, I don't want to ground you, but I will." It sounded weak and he knew it.

"But I'm not tiwed!" Lila objected, crossing her arms over her chest. Clint scrubbed a hand over his face, contemplating letting her do whatever she wanted until she passed out.

Natasha leant against the doorframe, her face stoic and plain, but he was sure he could see amusement in her eyes when he looked at her. "Maybe you should tell her a story." She suggested.

"What kind of story?" He demanded. "I've already read seven different princess books to her!" He sighed in exasperation while Lila giggled and resumed jumping.

"Then sing." Natasha suggested with a small smirk.

"I don't sing." Clint replied. "Why don't _you_ do it?"

Natasha stared at him silently for a few seconds before looking at his daughter. She began humming a tune, her voice soft and gentle, before she sung in Russian, "Спи, младенец мой прекрасный, Баюшки-баю. Тихо смотрит месяц ясный. В колыбель твою. Стану сказывать я сказки, Песенку спою; Ты ж дремли, закрывши глазки, Баюшки-баю."

Lila's jumping slowly ebbed until she plopped down into a sitting position, staring at Natasha in awe. She leaned over to Clint. "Thee thoundth like Mommy." She whispered, making Clint's heart skip a beat. He wanted to tell her that she shouldn't think like that, that she shouldn't try to replace her mother, but he realised that that was irrational. Instead he just urged her to lay down and pulled the blankets up to her chin.

"Go to sleep now, Lila." She mumbled something in reply, but he couldn't make it out- but it sounded like an argument.

"Сам узнаешь, будет время, Бранное житье; Смело вденешь ногу в стремя. И возьмешь ружье. Я седельце боевое. Шелком разошью… Спи, дитя мое родное, Баюшки-баю." Natasha continued the song, stepping out of the room.

Lila's eyes fluttered closed. Sighing in relief, Clint pressed a kiss to her forehead and tiptoed out of the room, meeting Natasha in the hallway. "I didn't realise you could sing." He noted.

"Everybody can sing; there are just different levels of singing." Natasha replied, walking away from him and back into the lounge.

"Sure…" He retorted noncommittally, completely exhausted. He sunk into the couch with a relieved sigh. "I don't know how she did it by herself every night." He muttered under his breath.

Natasha silently sat on the couch next to him before speaking. "Practice? She was used to it."

"Oh." He hadn't really meant for her to hear that, but okay. "I wish I had been there more often to help- it really is an exercise in patience. And sanity." He added.

"You're right- you should have." Natasha replied simply, not sugar-coating it.

"Shut up," he groaned, closing his eyes. "Aren't you tired?" He asked.

She shook her head. "No. We still haven't talked."

Clint was a little confused. His lethargy-riddled brain couldn't come up with anything they were supposed to talk about. "Remind me what we're talking about, again?"

"I was offered a new partner- should I have accepted it?" Natasha questioned.

Oh. That. "Well, my biased opinion is that you were right not to." He offered. "Do _you_ think you should have accepted it?"

"That depends on if I still have a partner in _you_." She replied, turning to face him properly. "Are you leaving S.H.I.E.L.D? Like the rumours suggest?"

"What rumours? I'm not leaving, Nat, we've been over this- I'm changing my work schedule, yes, but I do still need the work, you know. I've got a family to support."

"Yes, you have a family. The most logical choice would be for you to stop going on missions, start working in administration or… something less dangerous. And if you do that, then I've lost my partner." Natasha pointed out logically.

Clint shook his head. Now was the time for some uncomfortable honesty. "I'm not sure I could handle being away from the excitement." He admitted.

She stood up. "Then you have to work something out- sooner rather than later. Otherwise your children are going to get used to a schedule that you are about to change again."

"True. I'm working on it as fast as I can." He stood too. "Do you need to head back now? You probably need sleep as much as I do."

"I should- I've missed out on training today being here, so I'll have to catch up." Natasha replied.

"Alright," Clint nodded. "I'll see you in a few days, then." He led the way to the front door and held it open for her.

She headed for the door. "Bye, Barton." She whispered before exiting his house and disappearing into the night.

* * *

 **Thank you for reading!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's note:**

 **So this story is coming along a little slower than a few other stories, hope you don't mind being patient with me!**

 **Shorter chapter this time!**

 **Thank you to the two reviewers on the previous chapter:** ScarlettBarton and Princess2016.

* * *

Natasha twisted on the spot, ducking under the agent's arm and stepping behind him. With a swift kick to the back of the legs and quick push, he landed on the ground with a thud. A deep sigh left her when 'Five seconds' was called out. When she was asked to help out with some of the newer recruits, she'd thought it'd be more challenging. Thankfully, she hadn't needed to go through his process; she was already trained in all areas of fighting.

"You were going easy on him." Agent Hand stated.

Natasha gave a short nod, bored out of her mind. "He wasn't a threat; it would have been cruel to fully attack an unarmed individual."

Agent Hand nodded understandingly before dismissing the agents. "How about you stay around, train with some other agents- not recruits."

She wasn't sure if it were a request or order, so she agreed anyway. At least this was better than sitting in her room, waiting for an assignment or the calls from Clint. "Sounds good."

Thirty minutes later, Natasha was pleased she had stayed.

She was stood a few metres away from another agent, one who could hold herself in a fight- and she wasn't a drone. There was so much personality to her movements; she was comfortable in her own skin and knew what she was doing. Neither of them moved for a few minutes, waiting for the other to strike first. Eventually, they took off at the same time; Natasha twisted around, almost throwing the other agent to the floor, who rolled out of it. When she straightened up, Natasha looked down in shock- she had been tagged.

Of course, Natasha had tagged the other agent more than once; but this was the first time that she had been tagged without realising immediately. Maybe Clint wasn't the only person she could spar with at this place. A small approving smile made its way to her lips. "I like you."

The other agent smiled, almost smirking as she stood up. "Thanks. I'm Izzy."

"Natasha."

"It's a pleasure. Why are you stuffed up here?" Izzy asked her, stepping off the mat to show she wasn't going to attack and that this wasn't a tactic.

Natasha stepped off the mat before answering. "Partner's off for a bit- they won't let me out on my own." She answered truthfully- she had no issues with telling people S.H.I.E.L.D.'s hesitation with letting her do her job.

Izzy cocked her head to one side. "But if you went with somebody, they'd be cool with that?"

"Apparently, but I'm sure they'd find another excuse to keep me locked up here." Natasha replied bitterly. She knew the bitterness wasn't entirely directed at S.H.I.E.L.D- she is used to following orders- but at herself, for choosing to wait for somebody else instead of doing what's best for her and her career. Damn it, she was weak.

"You should tag along onto one of my missions; they are mainly undercover and intel recon, but we'll be thankful to have somebody of your skill level." Izzy offered so casually that Natasha could only compare that to how people throw around eating on a regular basis and meeting up for it.

She gave a short nod, but did not verbally confirm it- but that seemed to be enough for Izzy.

"Great, I'll let you know."

Natasha watched her walk off and turned her attention to the punching bag; if training was over, maybe she should get in a workout- she needed to keep herself in tip-top shape.

* * *

Natasha zipped up her tac-suit and double checked the stitching and hidden hooks before grabbing her belt. Looking up Izzy, she attached her belt and picked up her holster. "Are you going to tell me the specifics of what I am to do on this mission?"

Izzy sighed and rolled her shoulders experimentally in her own tac-suit. "Same as me- beat up the bad guys, get the info, get out." She said simply.

Natasha nodded and mentally went through her arsenal of assorted guns and knives before making her way to the door after the quinjet had landed, Izzy right behind her. "You take left, I'll take right." She ordered when they reached the main entrance to the giant building that contained the information they sought. Izzy dipped her head once in confirmation, pulled out a knife, and kicked the doors open forcefully with a combat boot-clad foot. They were immediately swamped with the replaceable goons that made up the security detail, both efficiently sending punches and kicks to the enemies that hadn't already collapsed with a knife or gunshot wound.

"I heard Agent Barton is retiring early." Izzy commented after slicing a chunk of flesh from a man's cheekbone and kicking him in the sternum.

"That's a negative. He's not." Natasha replied as she cleared a path through the sea of combatants with a barrage of bullets.

"Then how come he's not in the field anymore?"

Natasha threw a goon to the ground with a grunt. "That's a temporary measure; he's taken some time off."

"Ever wonder what he does with that much time off?" Izzy asked with a sly grin, stooping down and, in one swift movement, slitting the throat of a man who was struggling to reach his dropped gun. She righted herself, panting a little. "I'm just saying that time off is usually a few days- not weeks. There's something weird there."

"I know what he does with his time off." Natasha replied shortly, crushing another man's fingers under her boot and elbowing someone in the face simultaneously.

Izzy raised a brow. "And that is…?" She gestured for Natasha to continue, using her other hand to slash at an oncoming attacker and sending him to the floor, clutching his bloody face.

"Private."

"Ah, I see how it is." Izzy teased dryly, pausing for a moment to tackle a man to the ground. She pulled his arm behind his back and pressed on it until it cracked audibly, then, as she stood, stomped on the back of his head as hard as she could, throwing her knife into another's neck. "You two are romantically involved, right?" She asked as she retrieved her weapon.

Natasha fired two more rounds into the remaining opponents, downing them. "That's a negative- I thought S.H.I.E.L.D agents were supposed to be good at reading people."

"We are." Izzy replied smugly. Before Natasha had a chance to reply, she was off down the hallway, sprinting to the stairs, giving Natasha no choice but to follow. More goons awaited them on the third floor, and by the time Natasha had caught up, Izzy had slain one third of them. "There's clearly something between you two- at least on your end."

"Negative." Her reply shortened. "He's a trusted friend- I don't have many friends."

Izzy's face morphed into a pout. "And you didn't mention me? That hurts," she commented before returning to her usual smirk and sending a powerful punch into a large man's jaw. "He must really be something special." This was muttered under her breath.

"You're delusional; have you been hit on the head?" Natasha retorted as she steadied her arm, took aim and fired three bullets into an attacker's upper torso- all within a few seconds. She whipped around and did the same to another, then another, while Izzy picked off the stragglers.

"Ah, forget it." Izzy relented with a roll of her eyes, driving her blade into a man's head. "No use in arguing with someone so deeply in denial." There was a glint in her eyes.

Natasha ignored the frustrating fellow agent as she broke a man's legs using only one arm, the other still firing her gun into the lessening crowd of men to take down.

After a few more minutes of combat, the enemies were all down, and the two made their way into the room at the end of the hall. "Watch my back while I get the info." Izzy ordered, crouching by the computer system and pulling out a small device, pocketing her knife.

Natasha lifted her stance, her eyes instantly scanning the room. "Copy that." She replied, surveying the area carefully.

"Alright, almost… got it... We're golden! Let's get the hell out of here!" Izzy exclaimed, jumping up and exchanging the device containing the information for her knife, heading for the door.

Natasha was right on her tail, twisting around to ensure they weren't being followed. There were no words exchanged between them until they were on the quinjet and in the air. "Is that usually how your missions go?" She questioned. It had been a lot more fun than she had expected.

"Nope- usually they're more boring. You're not bad, Romanoff." Izzy replied. "Hey, wanna get a drink? It's a tradition after a successful mission… and unsuccessful missions, too."

"Sure." Natasha agreed with a swift nod. She had never been invited for drinks with anybody apart from Clint at S.H.I.E.L.D- not a proper invitation, anyway. Maybe Clint taking a little time off was beneficial to her.

"Awesome." Izzy took out her knife and a rag and began to wipe the blood from it. "Let's say… six tonight, after debriefing?"

Natasha gave a nod as her reply. That would give her enough time to shower beforehand- it was probably a good idea to wash out the blood. She contemplated thanking Izzy for inviting her, but decided against it.

* * *

 **Thank you for reading, any response you have is welcome :)**


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note:**

 **Hello! Welcome to another installation of this story!**

 **Thank you to the three wonderful individuals who reviewed the last chapter: Princess2016; Amy Hamato and FireflyOfTheShadowWolves. Means a lot to me!**

 **Hope you like this chapter!**

* * *

Clint exhaled languidly as he strolled through the base, back to his assigned room- it had been a few weeks, but it felt so much longer. He finally reached his room and deposited his bag before making his way to Natasha's room to tell her he'd returned and maybe just hang out for a bit. But there was no answer when he knocked on her door. Had she been assigned to a different room while he was gone?

"Nat? You there?" He called, but received no answer. Slightly concerned, he roamed the halls for a few minutes in search of either Natasha or someone who knew where she was. The first person he encountered was a female agent he couldn't remember the name of. "Have you seen Agent Romanoff? She's not in her room, so I'm a bit worried." He asked quickly. That sounded slightly shallow of him, considering there were other places in the base for a person to spend their time, but Natasha was known to mostly stick to her room or sometimes even his, so her not being in either was unusual. And it was too late in the day for her to be training.

"I'm not sure. She might still be on her mission- Fitz said she went on a mission, because she took one of his new inventions. They're friends… I could ask him if he knows?" The agent offered, rambling slightly.

Clint nodded curtly. "Please do." If Natasha was still on a mission, he would just have to wait until she returned.

The other agent pulled out her phone, speed-dialling a number. "Hey, Fitz, it's Simmons. No, it's not about that. I'm with Hawkeye- Right! I know! He's so nice! Anyway, he's asking about Romanoff. Ahh, I thought that. I don't know if they're dating, Ftiz! Why don't you ask her? I don't know if you broke your toy… fine, your drone. He's looking at me weirdly. I'll see you in the lab." She hung up the phone, turned around and took a photo of them. "She's still on the mission, as she hasn't brought back his drone."

Great. "Alright, thank you, Agent… Simmons?" When she nodded, he sent her another grateful smile before turning and heading back to his room. "Natasha and I aren't dating, by the way." He called over his shoulder, amusement seeping into his voice. The newer agents were so entertaining sometimes- so star-struck and naive.

* * *

Clint was at his desk, reading through various mission reports and writing small notes off to the side on things that the agents could have done better- it was one of the more boring parts of helping improve the new recruits. He'd read through at least fifty files by now, he was sure, so they were all starting to blend together in his mind, into a big, tedious mush. The most recent mission report detailed a particularly frustrating job done by a young woman who had been sent to steal some files from some big business. There were _so many_ mistakes! It was amazing that she'd even managed to get into the building in the first place, let alone that she somehow managed to stumble her way back out with the files in hand!

It was a relief when he finally reached the last sentence. In the margin, he wrote bluntly, _Don't send colourblind agents into the field,_ as a final note. If that woman was sent on another mission, he wasn't sure her dumb luck would reoccur; he was fairly certain it would end in lives being lost. He groaned and scrubbed a hand down his face. How long had he been doing this, anyway? It felt like it had been days since he'd first sat down at the desk.

The door opened without the person knocking, and Natasha walked in. "I heard you were back and looking for me." She stated, foregoing the greeting.

Clint swivelled to face her with a tired smile. "I was. How'd it go?" He asked conversationally, just glad to see her after being gone for so long.

"I'm sure you'll end up with the report by morning." She answered without really answering as she made herself comfortable by sitting on his couch.

All too happy to get out of that damned desk chair, Clint went and joined her on the couch. "Yeah, but I wanted to hear it from you." He mock pouted before offering a smile. "Anyways, things go alright without me? Did you behave?" He joked.

"We got the intel we needed. And I didn't kill anybody, if that's what you're asking." Natasha replied seriously, turning to face him. "Are you back now? Or is this just another visit?"

"No, I'm back." Clint replied happily. "Finally got my work schedule sorted out, so I'm back to work."

She nodded, waiting a moment before asking, "And what does your work schedule look like?"

"Mondays, Tuesdays, Wednesdays and Thursdays I'm here, Fridays I work from home, and the weekends I don't work at all. That way I'm available for missions and other things more often, but still have time to go be with my kids." Clint answered.

Natasha nodded in understanding. "So only short missions during the day? Sounds good. Different, but I'll take what I can get."

"I can do one late night mission per week, but I can't leave the kids in someone else's care for too long." Clint explained.

She nodded understandingly. "That sounds like a sound plan." She agreed and didn't offer any further comment on the matter. "Why were you looking for me?" She questioned.

"Just wanted to see you- it's been, what? Week and a half?"

"Eleven days." Natasha answered precisely. "It'll be twelve days exactly in three hours."

"Yeesh. You really obsess sometimes." Clint commented. "But I'm here now, so restart your timer."

Natasha gave a small nod, like she would when accepting an order. "Did you want to do 'small talk'?" She questioned. "How're the kids?"

"They're good." Clint internally sighed. Small talk always turned incredibly awkward after a while, and he didn't want to ruin this with awkwardness. There needed to be something more profound. "Lila really likes you, you know." He laughed a little. "Asks for you a lot these days."

"That is awfully naive of her- she's met me once and it was for under an hour." Natasha responded instantly, no thought behind her words- that was Natasha through and through; with him, she was uncensored.

"Well, she _is_ a little kid." Clint pointed out, unable to hide the chuckle in his voice. "Coop likes you, too. Said he would really like to see you again."

Natasha raised an eyebrow at him, seemingly to pause before responding. "Are you inviting me back to your house?" She questioned.

He rubbed at the back of his neck. "Maybe. Yes. Yeah, I guess I am." Anything to placate his constantly begging daughter.

"That's the second time today somebody has asked me to do something outside of S.H.I.E.L.D." Natasha commented before looking at him. "I guess it would be rude to not accept the invitation. When?"

Clint thought on it for a few seconds. "Actually, I'm headed back home after work today, so you could tag along." He offered.

Natasha hesitated, she pulled out her phone. "Sure- let me check what time 'drinks' ends." She said, looking down at her phone as she began texting.

"Oh no, I don't want to intrude on your… whatever it is." Clint interjected, feeling guilty for some reason. This whole situation was new and unmapped territory.

She looked up at him for a second before looking down at her phone for another few seconds. "It's fine. It's just post-mission drinks; I wasn't too keen on going anyway."

Well that was good, at least. "Alright." He nodded and sat rather idly as she sent the text. After a few moments of silence, he asked something he'd been wanting to know for a while. "Lila and Cooper- do you like them? It's alright if you don't- I know kids aren't exactly your favourite thing in the world- but I was just wondering."

"I prefer children to adults, actually. They don't judge people on their past and usually tell the truth without restraint." Natasha answered, slipping her phone back into her pocket.

Clint resisted the urge to groan. "What about _my_ children specifically?" He asked, though not as gently as he'd wanted.

She stared at him passively for a moment. "I don't believe I can make a sound judgement on your children right now, Clint, as I have only spent less than an hour with them. However, I have nothing against them at this present time."

Ah, always so professional. That was her default reaction, he'd figured out, when she just didn't have an answer or didn't understand the significance of said answer. "I guess that's better than hating them."

Natasha looked away from him awkwardly. "What should I bring?" She asked. "I hear it's custom."

"Bring?" He asked confusedly. What custom was she talking about?

"When you go to somebody's home, you're supposed to take something. The custom, I hear, is wine. However, you asked me there for your children, so… juice?"

"Oh, um, only if you want to, I guess." He didn't want to force her into it, but he didn't want to shut her down completely, either.

Natasha nodded. "I need to go to my debriefing. I'll meet you back here?" She questioned.

"Sure." Clint answered. Then she was gone.

* * *

After debriefing, Natasha headed with Izzy and the rest of the group to the bar on base. She always wondered why there was a bar when they weren't supposed to drink on missions, or in excess in general. It seemed like it was counter-productive, but she didn't mention anything- she could always ask Clint at another time. It would probably be some silly reason.

"What are you gonna have?" Izzy asked Nat as they both took a seat.

"I should probably stay clear of alcohol for now- just an orange juice or something." Natasha replied casually, the drink almost immediately being handed to her.

"That because you have big plans later?" Izzy asked suggestively before acquiring herself a beer.

Natasha knew exactly what she was hinting at. "It's nothing like that, trust me. I wouldn't mind doing that- I'd prefer it. I'm just meeting up with a friend."

Izzy pulled a face. "Poor you."

"What about you?" Natasha asked.

"In a few hours, I'm going to meet up with a friend- but this one involves some fun." Izzy replied with a wink before laughing. "You need to loosen up!"

Natasha took a sip of her drink. "In what way do I need to 'loosen up'?" She inquired.

"You're all work, no play." Izzy answered, taking a swig of her beer. "Don't you ever want to just… see where the night takes you?"

"But I already know what I'm doing tonight." Natasha replied as she tried to work out exactly what Izzy meant by 'see where the night takes you'.

"Exactly! Don't you want to experience the bliss that is not knowing where you'll be and what you'll be doing later?" Izzy checked her watch. "It's four right now. Where will you be at seven?" Her tone suggested that this wasn't an invitation to do something later, but something else.

"At my friend's place." Natasha answered vaguely- she couldn't actually get into details about what she would be doing later, because in all honesty, she wasn't sure.

"See? Boring! You might as well type up an itinerary." Izzy drawled, swirling her beer a little. She adopted a mischievous smile. "Why not take some booze with you? That would make things interesting."

Natasha contemplated that for a moment. Of course Clint's children wouldn't be able to drink, but Clint had been very stressed lately; maybe a drink would be helpful. "Fine, I'll take some 'booze' with me. Any suggestions?"

Izzy snorted and gestured vaguely. "Whatever this stuff is. It's good." She didn't bother to read the label, just continued gesturing at the bottle in her hand. "Unless you wanted something… sexier." She waggled her eyebrows.

With an eyeroll, she grabbed two beers. "These will do. I should go and get some things together."

"Whatever. Don't get a papercut when you're filing your paperwork, Mrs. Borington." Izzy teased lazily. "See you around?"

"Yes, we'll talk tomorrow when _you_ have a hangover and I don't." Natasha replied smartly. "Bye." She said sweetly before walking off, ignoring the other woman's response.

* * *

Natasha bagged the four items she had acquired and zipped the bag up. She couldn't work out why she was actually slightly nervous about being invited to Clint's. It had never happened before, and that was a level of social interaction she was not accustomed to. However, she had read up on what to expect and walked to his room, actually knocking this time.

"C'mon in, Natasha." Clint called through the door, the sound of a zipper being heard. "I'm just finishing packing up." He explained once she'd entered, dropping two bags on the floor by his feet. "Ready to go?"

Natasha nodded- he didn't need a verbal confirmation, as a visual was enough. After all, she was holding a dufflebag and dressed appropriately.

"Great, let's get out of here." He led her back through the door, closing and locking it behind them, and they made their way to his car. He loaded their bags into the trunk. "Lila will be especially excited to see you." He commented. "She's been pretending to be 'like Natty' a lot lately."

Natasha looked at him with disgust. "I hope you corrected her on calling me 'Natty'." She replied. The fact that a child wanted to be like her was heartwarming, but she wasn't about to tell him. Also, she wouldn't wish anybody to be like her- that would be cruel.

"Of course not- it's too cute." Clint defended with a smirk. "She'll grow on you, I promise."

"Barton. My name is Nat to you and your family, Natasha to those who claim they are close friends, Romanoff to those at S.H.I.E.L.D and Black Widow to everybody else. Natty is a no. Understand?" Natasha replied. She honestly hated that nickname; not only was there no practicality to be called that, like Nat, but it did not sound at all appealing to her. She didn't want to look at a child with disgust over being called such a displeasing name, nor did she want to have to correct the child herself.

"Fine, fine," Clint surrendered as he passed the security checker and drove through a large patch of strategically-placed trees. "But you'll have to break it to her gently- she's quite attached to her 'Princess Natty' view of you. She doesn't even know what your job is, but she apparently thinks you're a princess."

Natasha gave Clint a weird look- in what reality would she ever be a princess? "That definitely has to go." She replied, trying to think of how to not upset the child but insure it wouldn't be used again. She frowned as she knew it had to be Clint to be the one to reinforce it, but he was a pushover when it came to his kids- and that was clear to see.

"I dunno, maybe you should just play along…" Clint teased. "You could let her do your makeup and you could wear her favorite tiara… I could take blackmail pictures…"

She threw him a glare. "If 'Natty' doesn't go away, I do." She stated strongly. If anybody asked her why she didn't like the new nickname, she couldn't tell them, but she wouldn't have answered anyway.

Clint rolled his eyes. "Fine. No more 'Natty'." He agreed. After a few more minutes of riding in silence, he put the car into park and got out, making his way to the trunk. "Alright, here you go." He said, handing her her bag.

Accepting her bag, she looked at his home; the atmosphere was a lot different this time than when she'd just turned up. "Thanks. Just to make things clear, what do you expect me to do with the kids?" She questioned.

"Talk, play, read, watch something on TV… Basically just have fun with them." He answered.

Natasha looked away from him. What the hell did he mean by 'have fun'? She hoped he'd give her more guidelines. Talk about what? Play what? Read what? Watch what? "Could you… elaborate?" She asked, almost hitting herself at how feeble she sounded. She could handle ten six-foot blokes trying to kill her, but having to have 'fun' with two children was definitely harder.

Clint sighed. "Listen, they'll tell you what they like to do. Just… please do this. They need some more fun, especially after Laura-" He paused. "Anyway, after you came last time, Lila was ten times as happy and Cooper was almost his old self again. They really like you, and I think just hanging out with you would help them a lot."

She nodded along with his words, processing them before turning to him. "Can you at least tell me what I _can't_ do with them?"

* * *

 **Thank you for reading! Any feedback or review would be great :)**


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note:**

 **Hello, thank you for the support you have all given me for this story.**

 **Thank you to** **FireflyOfTheShadowWolves; Agentofshield27; Princess2016 for reviewing the previous chapter.**

 **Here's the next chapter!**

* * *

Natasha nearly froze at the door when she saw another woman sitting on the sofa- it hadn't crossed her mind that somebody else would be looking after the children when Clint wasn't home. The woman with long blonde hair stood up.

"Clint, I'm heading out on a mission first thing tomorrow; I've already called Plan B and they're in." The woman informed him.

"That's fine. Thanks, Bobbi." Clint said as he dropped his bags on the nearby table. "Seriously. You're a lifesaver."

Bobbi smiled. "It's fine, they're darlings, anyway. Besides, this way I can get out of literally all of my paperwork." She turned to Natasha, holding out her hand. "You must be Ms. Romanoff. I'm Bobbi."

Natasha shook her hand civilly. "Yes. Hi."

"Did you want to stay for dinner, Bobbi? I was thinking lasagna or spaghetti." Clint offered. "Oh, and where are the kids?" He looked around the room and peered into the next room, but there was apparently no sign of his children.

"I can't, I have a date." Bobbi replied as she collected her bag. "And we're playing hide-and-seek; they're really good- I haven't found them in the last twenty minutes. Bye!" She said, quickly ducking out of the room.

Natasha looked at Clint. "I thought you were supposed to look for the 'hiders' in the game. Not… leave them there."

"Well… why don't you go find them?" Clint suggested, unpacking the juice and putting it in the fridge. "I'll make dinner and you can play with the kids."

She nodded- that sounded like a mission, and, like any other mission, she was going to complete this.

* * *

Natasha stepped down the hallway and pulled open the cupboard, revealing both Cooper and Lila hiding together.

"You found uth!" Lila exclaimed seconds before complete and utter surprise filled her face. Cooper's expression matched his younger sister's.

"When did you get here? What happened to Bobbi?" He asked innocently as both of the children stood there.

Natasha wasn't quite sure what to make of their reactions- was that normal? Probably. "She left." She answered softly. "Your dad is in the lounge."

"Aww! She's no fun sometimes!" Cooper groaned.

"Daddy'th home?" Lila asked with comically wide eyes. "C'mon, let'th go!" She sprinted to her father as fast as her little legs would carry her, Cooper eagerly following suit.

With light steps, she followed them both back to Clint.

"Hey, kiddos!" Clint greeted as he knelt down to hug them both. "Did you behave for Aunt Bobbi?"

"Yeah!"

"Good. Did Natasha find you?"

Lila giggled. "Uh-huh! Thee took for _ever_!" Clint laughed and just hugged them a little tighter. "Daddy, can we play ballerinath?"

Natasha's lips turned up into a smirk at the look on Clint's face- this was definitely something he had done before. "I think your daddy would love to play ballerina with you." She answered for him before he had a chance.

"Yay!" Lila exclaimed, pulling back. "I'll get the tututh!" She added before running out of the room.

Clint turned to Natasha. "Why do you hate me?" Her only reply was a smirk.

* * *

Clint groaned in total frustration as his fighter was massacred- for about the two-thousandth time in a row. He was tempted to throw the remote in a fit of childish rage or at the very least turn off the game. But he wanted to set a good example for his kids in the way of good sportsmanship. However, when he and Cooper lost to the combined forces of Natasha and Lila again, his priorities shifted to trying to keep Cooper from getting upset that they had yet to win a single round. He leant over subtly when Cooper and Lila were both distracted and whispered into Nat's ear, "Hey, you gotta let us win this round."

"That's cheating."

He sighed. "Nat, Coop really wants to win a round- just once would be great!"

"Aren't you supposed to teach children that if they want to win, they have to get better themselves?" Natasha asked him.

He almost growled because she totally had a point. "Nat, that's true, but look at him." He gestured to the boy, who was clearly getting increasingly frustrated. "I think the problem is that you're a better strategist, and you're using that to your full extent. Could you dial it back just a bit? For his sake?"

"Maybe his super-spy father should play it to his full extent too, then." Natasha replied before leaning away from him. "Ready for the next round, Lila?" She asked the young girl.

Lila jumped up and plopped herself back onto the couch, grabbing her controller. "Yeah!"

Clint nudged his son's shoulder. "You ready, Sport? I have a good feeling about this round."

Cooper sighed and nodded. "Yeah… yeah, okay." Determination settled on his young face. "We're gonna win this time!"

"Sure are! Alright, let's talk strategy before we start." Clint lowered his voice so the girls wouldn't overhear. "You take care of Lila, I'll handle Natasha, and then we'll switch just before time runs out. You've got lightning-fast fingers, so I think you could get Nat if you catch her off-guard." Clint explained while Cooper nodded along.

"Okay!"

Natasha whispered something into Lila's ear and the young girl nodded.

"Everyone ready?" Clint asked the others. When he got three different variations of 'yes', he pushed the start button and began furiously pressing buttons on his controller. It was slightly surprising how quickly Nat had learnt to play the game- after one trial round where she'd lost by only three points, she'd quickly started winning every single round with overwhelming superior statistics.

"Lila, stop cheating!" Cooper whined as he stared intently at the screen, biting his lip, fingers flying over the controller.

Natasha's character went from intensely battering Clint's to coming to a complete and utter halt for a few seconds before continuing.

"'S not _cheating_!" Lila defended, sticking her tongue out at her brother. "I'm pushing buttonth, just like you!"

"Yeah, but you're doing it wrong!"

"Kids, stop arguing." Clint interrupted distractedly. When the timer reached the last ten seconds, he exclaimed, "Coop, now!" They switched opponents and Clint quickly battled against Lila and her habit of randomly pushing lots of buttons, accidentally activating lots of combos and making it difficult to get any hits in. When the clock hit zero, it was announced that Team Boys had won. "Yeah! We rock!" Clint cheered, high-fiving his ecstatic son.

"But that'th not _fair! I_ wanted to win!" Lila all but screamed, kicking her legs. "Not fair!" Great, now the temper tantrums had begun.

"Lila, honey, you can't always get whatever you want. And I think it is fair- you guys beat us so many times already, now it's our turn to win." Clint tried to calmly reason with her- but Lila was having _none of it_.

"No! NO NO NO!" Lila continued, kicking her legs harder until she fell in a pitiful crumpled heap to the floor. "NO!" Her face was coated with snot and tears and her hair was getting tangled as she started thrashing around on the carpet. " _NO!"_

Nat leant into Clint. "Told you I shouldn't let you win."

"That's not helping!" He whispered rather harshly before turning back to his rampaging daughter. "Lila, stop this right now." He tried the assertive card, but if she'd even _heard_ him, she wasn't showing it. Her shirt got tangled around her legs somehow and one of her socks came off.

" _NO! NO!"_ When he knelt down beside her and tried to touch her shoulder, she jerked away from him and screamed in his general direction, not being able to see as her tangled hair fell in her face. " _DON' TOUCH ME! LEAMME ALONE!"_

"Lila, please don't be like this- not when we have a guest! Natasha's here, remember?"

" _NO!"_

"Lila…"

The girl coughed, drool falling from her lips, and her breath started hitching wildly. "I want my _mommy!_ I want _mommy!_ " She screamed. Clint stopped short, heart twisting and cracking dangerously. He wanted nothing more than to call Laura into the room and ask for her help, watch as she miraculously calmed the raging child by singing to her or having a calm conversation with basically herself until Lila's curiosity and need to participate made her give in and join. What was he supposed to do?

"That's it." Natasha muttered and she grabbed Lila around the waist and picked her up before walking straight out of the room with her. Lila's crying got quieter as they got further away.

Cooper looked at him with wide eyes. "That was worse than last Halloween." He said.

Clint sighed tiredly and rested his face in his hands, taking a few deep breaths. "She's just having trouble coping right now, I think…" Because losing alone had never riled Lila up that much before. She'd been relatively the same after Laura died, but times like these made it clear that she was having just as much trouble dealing with it as Clint and Cooper were. "She'll be okay." He added as belated reassurance. "Nat will handle it."

"Okay…" Cooper stood and turned off the game console.

After a good five or so minutes of calming himself down, Clint began to worry about what exactly Nat was doing with Lila. The girl should be berated for her behavior, sure, but later, when she wasn't melting down. Would she punish her? He decided that it had been long enough that he could safely go and see how things were going. The crying appeared to have ebbed, so that was hopefully a good sign.

He pushed Lila's door open just a crack and glanced in. Lila was standing in the corner, her forehead pressed against the wall and her arms hanging by her side- she was still lightly crying. Natasha looked at him from her standing position to one side. "When she is ready to apologise for her behaviour, she will be allowed back down." She informed him simply.

"I didn't _do_ anything…!"

"Face the wall!" Natasha growled and Lila quickly did as she was told.

Clint didn't really know what to say at first. He wanted to scoop Lila up into his arms and save her, but then he realized that, tempting as it was, that wasn't what this situation called for. Lila did need to learn, and this method appeared to be working. "Good work." He finally settled on some admittedly awkward praise, which he whispered to Natasha before deciding to go do something productive elsewhere- Natasha had everything under control.

"Hey, Coop, let's refill the bird feeders." He announced as he came back into the living room. That had always been something Laura loved to do- she would sit there with the kids for hours afterwards and watch the hummingbirds and the bluejays as they came and pecked at the special feeders.

"Oh, uh, okay." Cooper replied, sounding slightly confused. The boy went and grabbed the giant bag of sunflower seeds from the garage and measured out the correct amounts as Clint poured them in and then hung the feeders on their tree branches. "Won't Lila be mad? She loves helping with the feeders." Cooper commented as they took out a sugar water mixture they'd made a few days ago for the hummingbirds.

Clint sighed. "Probably. But she lost her feeder privileges when she behaved the way she did." Cooper didn't ask any more questions about it as they refilled the hummingbird feeders and then sat on the porch to watch them.

Lila walked out with Natasha behind her; she was a lot calmer now and was wearing a clean top. She walked over to Clint. "I'm thorry."

He wordlessly beckoned her closer so she stood right in front of him- when he was sitting, she was almost as tall as him. He put his hands on her shoulders. "Honey, I forgive you. I know it's been rough, and I know… I know you want your mom, but I'm doing the best I can. Just… remember that, okay, Sweetheart?" She nodded tearfully and wrapped her little arms around his neck, burying her head in his shoulder.

"Okay." She whispered with a sniffle. After a moment she cheered up again. "Hey, are the feederth full? Any hummin' birdth come yet?"

"Not yet." Cooper reported.

"Hold up. Lila, isn't there somebody else you have to apologise to?" Natasha prompted.

"Oh, yeah." She went over and gave Cooper a hug as well. "Thorry, Coop!" She cried.

Cooper smiled a little. "It's okay, Liles."

Then Lila detached, gasped and made a beeline for Natasha's legs, latching on. "I'm thorry, Natatha! I was so bad!"

"You don't need to say sorry to me," Natasha informed the young girl as she bent down. "You don't owe me anything- how about you go and see if there're any hummingbirds yet."

"Okay! Thankth, Natatha!" Lila exclaimed, plopping into the deck chair beside her brother and staring intently at the feeder.

Clint gestured to the seat beside him. "C'mon, you deserve to put your feet up." He urged Natasha. "You're kind of my hero."

She sat down obediently. "Your hero? Why?"

"You saved the day, Nat! I was about as useful as a potato, and you just swooped right in, no nonsense, and took care of it!" Clint answered with a laugh.

"You were too emotionally involved- I just took it like it was a mission." Natasha replied. "You need to detach yourself at sometimes in order to get the job done- and in this case, it was disciplining Lila."

Clint rubbed at the back of his neck. "Yeah, I suppose so… It's just hard to sometimes; I mean, her mother is gone, and I don't want to be mean after something so terrible…"

Natasha shrugged slightly and looked at the children. "I don't know enough about children to give you advice." She admitted.

"Well, what you did today is more than enough." Clint assured her with a kind smile. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

* * *

 **Thank you for reading!**

 **If there are any characters for Agents of SHIELD (or Marvel) you would like to see, let me know and I'll see what I can do.**

 **Beta: ThisVioletofMine.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note:**

 **Hello! Nine days, sorry I made you wait over a week!**

 **But, I am finally getting back on track! In fact, the next chapter for this story has already been written, so expect that in a few days! :)**

 **Thank you for your continued support!**

* * *

Clint snuck from Lila's room with bated breath, praying to every deity he could think of that his little daughter would finally let him leave- he'd attempted to leave her room almost four times before, and she'd always called him back in with one outlandish request after another. Now that she was finally asleep, he was met with no objections once he closed the door behind himself, and he happily made the trek down the stairs to the living room, dropping onto the couch like a sack of potatoes. "Man, Lila comes up with the strangest requests at bedtime to try and get out of having to go to sleep." He commented, massaging his temples and glancing at Natasha.

"Oh, such as?" Natasha inquired, looking semi-interested.

"Well, she wanted me to sing her a song, but once it was over, she asked me to sing it again- in German. Then French. I didn't know she even _knew_ other languages existed." Clint replied, letting out a long-suffering sigh. His brain was fried after his efforts of impromptu translation.

Natasha watched him silently for a second. "I believe this would be the time for…" She pulled out two beers. "These? Apparently, it's normal."

Clint was totally surprised- Natasha was his friend and she could be quite thoughtful when she wanted to be, but she'd never really been one for social norms, and she usually didn't instigate these sorts of things. She usually just went with the flow in social situations. Sure he was staring but unable to quite stop himself, Clint gladly accepted the beer and took a swig.

"Izzy told me to." Natasha added before taking a swig from her bottle.

Ah. That made a bit more sense. "Well, Izzy was right. Thanks." Clint said kindly, offering a soft chuckle when she looked a little lost. "Want to do something?"

"What are you suggesting?" Natasha asked.

Clint shrugged. "I dunno. Watch a movie, play chess, just keep talking…" He listed, propping his feet up on the coffee table.

Natasha nodded. "Alright, let's do something then." She agreed, taking another swig of beer. "You can decide."

Clint was about to opt for the 'movie' option before he remembered the mountain of dirty dishes waiting in the kitchen to be washed- not to mention the mess on the counters as well. Groaning, he stood. "Alright, I have to go clean up the kitchen before we can do anything else- otherwise I'll forget to do it later and Bobbi will do it while I'm at work, and I'm in no mood for feeling that guilt." He explained begrudgingly.

She stood up. "Alright, cleaning the kitchen it is." Natasha replied, heading out of the room.

He followed her, confused. "Nat, it's alright, I've got it." He insisted. "You're the guest."

Natasha glanced at him. "This way would be quicker." She clarified before turning on the hot water and picking up the dish soap.

Clint rolled his eyes but decided that an extra set of hands would be pretty helpful. He grabbed a few dish towels and gave them to Natasha. "Fine, but let me do the washing and you can dry- making you do the harder job would be rude." He said, picking up a sponge.

With a roll of her eye, she stepped back. "Fine." She grabbed a towel and started wiping down a dish he'd washed.

"Woah, Nat!" Clint exclaimed when her motions made a stream of sudsy water fly onto his shirt.

"You said you wanted do the dishes." Natasha replied with a smirk, turning partially away from him.

He groaned and tried in vain to dry himself off- his shirt was now stuck uncomfortably to his skin. While Natasha's back was turned, however, an evil, suicidal thought came to him. Hell, why not? He grabbed the spray nozzle and squirted the entire back of her shirt, laughing maniacally. "Reveeeeenge!"

Natasha spun around instantly, the wet towel hitting him square in the face. Before he knew it, a dirty bowl was over his head and sudsy was water pouring down his body. " _That_ is revenge."

"No! I'm meeeeltiiinggg!" Clint cried before grabbing a cup, scooping some dishwater into it, and dumping it on her head, not caring that the water splashed all over the floor. "Take _that_ , traitor!"

She paused her movements, looking at him with utter confusion- obviously trying to work something out.

Clint knew what she was thinking almost immediately. "No, it was a joke, Nat. You're not a traitor." He amended. "And we really need to watch the Wizard of Oz, huh?" Sighing, he looked around at the mess they'd made. "You know, I came in here with the intent to make it cleaner…"

"You started the water fight." Natasha pointed out as she picked up the mop.

* * *

Natasha crossed her legs beneath her as she leant back against the couch, the blanket draped over her lap. She eyed the doorway to the laundry room- her clothes were in the dryer- before looking back at Clint to answer his question. "No, I'd rather not watch a child's film."

"It's not a _kid's_ movie! Well… it might be, actually… But it's really good! Plus, there are lots of references you'll be able to understand once you watch it." Clint countered as he finished scrubbing at his hair with a towel.

She groaned. Usually she wouldn't bother to express what she felt aloud, but she actually hoped that for once she wouldn't have to do what he was suggesting. Besides, the thought of watching a kid's movie that everybody knew was a lot of pressure and she wasn't entirely comfortable with that. It made her feel more out of place than anything. "Can't we do something I'm more comfortable with?"

Clint sighed. "Fine, fine. Just know that you're being totally lame right now." He stuck his tongue out childishly. "So what do you want to do?"

Great. Now he was punishing her by making her give options. "More cleaning?" That was a safe idea, but he didn't look thrilled by it. "Sparring? Fighting techniques? Have sex? Do some yoga? I hear yoga helps with… stress. You seem stressed."

Clint was looking at her with huge eyes. "Um… excuse me, what?" He asked, sounding something similar to stunned- his face implied that, had he been eating or drinking something, he would have been choking or spitting it out right now. "What- _what_ was that one option?"

She sighed. Apparently she needed to revise her knowledge on acceptable suggestions- what was he referring to? Must be the yoga; that was outlandish to her, too. "Jeez, we won't do yoga, then. Let's just watch that stupid movie."

Clint blinked. "Uh… yeah. Okay." He went and put the movie into the DVD player. "Let's watch it, then." He plopped onto the couch.

Natasha turned her attention to the screen, leaning back to watch the film.

* * *

Clint shot a glance at Natasha as the Wicked Witch of the West was soaked with a bucket of water and yelled the line he'd quoted earlier, internally smirking when he could practically see the recognition in Natasha's expression. His thoughts couldn't seem to stray away from her earlier… suggestion. He knew Natasha was a blunt woman, and he knew she didn't exactly live by everyone else's standards of 'acceptable', but that had been the last thing he'd expected her to say. They were best friends, yes, but nothing more intimate than that. They'd known each other for over a year and had grown very close, but they were nowhere near a point where sexual relations would be a comfortable next step. Why was he even thinking about Natasha like that? He was married! Well… he was a widower. But even though he wasn't technically married anymore, that didn't mean he was ready to start a new relationship with someone else. Laura was the mother of his children and the love of his life, and he just… He felt like finding someone new would be replacing Laura and betraying her memory.

Natasha looked at him, her expression mostly blank. "You wanted to watch the film- why are you looking at me?" She asked.

Clint sighed and looked back at the screen, thoughts going in fifty different directions. He felt somewhat guilty, but he wasn't quite sure why. He wasn't doing anything wrong, he didn't think. He tried to focus on the screen, but he must not have been processing what was happening on the screen, because suddenly the credits were rolling and Natasha was stretching. He did as well and stood, going to check and see if her clothes were dry yet. He came back into the living room and tossed the warm clothes to her. "Here you go." He mumbled tiredly. It was almost midnight, and he hadn't gotten much sleep the night before, so he was starting to feel like a zombie, or at least something that shouldn't be moving around, like a corpse. He was sure he looked like one, too.

"Thank you." Natasha said, grabbing the clothes and standing. "I'll change and get out of your hair." She informed him as she headed to the bathroom.

As he waited for her to come out- as it would obviously be rude to just go to bed and let her see herself out- he debated whether or not he should bring up her suggestion or not. He didn't want her to be suggesting that to somebody else and more so for that other person to agree. He didn't want her lack of knowledge of social norms to end in her being taken advantage of- she was worth so much more than that. He wanted to tell her this, but he was apprehensive about what her reaction could be.

Natasha walked out, holding his clothes folded neatly in her arms. "Here you go." She said, handing them to him and grabbing her bag.

He didn't move for a moment, not sure how to bring up something like that without making things either worse or just awkward- although those two things were basically the same. Finally he found his voice. "Hey, Nat?"

She turned back to face him questioningly. "Oh… formal goodbye?" She asked. "I'll get a hang of these 'social greetings' soon." She promised before standing tall. "Goodbye, Clint. Thank you very much for inviting me over. We should do this again sometime."

Clint almost groaned. "No- well, you're welcome, I mean, but we need to talk." He clarified. "Could you stay another minute?"

"I can." Natasha confirmed and placed her bag down. "Hopefully not too long- it's a long walk back to the base."

Oh. _Shit_. "I'm sorry, Nat! I totally forgot you didn't drive here!" Well, now he didn't know what to do. He couldn't drive her back, since the kids needed an adult on the premises, and he wasn't going to call Bobbi back this late at night. He cleared his throat. "You can't walk back this late. It's dangerous, but it would also take at least seven hours." He stayed strictly in mission get-down-to-business mode to avoid any more awkwardness than there already was. "You'll have to stay here tonight."

"I don't need your charity, Clint; I've had enough of that. I can take care of myself, and if it makes you feel better, I was planning on running back. A good two-hour run would be good for me, since I've been laxing on my training lately." Natasha replied, her voice matching his mission voice.

Clint shook his head. "No, Nat, you're staying here." He asserted. He would feel endlessly guilty if she had to run home while he was asleep.

Natasha looked at him challengingly and for a moment, he thought she would refuse and just leave, as she crossed her arms. "Is that an order?" She questioned.

Clint mirrored her pose and raised his eyebrows sternly. "Does it need to be?"

"If you want me to stay, then yes." Natasha stood her ground.

Clint didn't know whether to glare or back down, so he settled for frowning. He didn't like having to force her into things, especially when it wasn't a life-or-death necessity type of thing, but he couldn't let her walk home so late, especially since she'd be getting home and to sleep at two or three in the morning, cutting back on her sleep even more and depriving her of the few hours she usually slept. "Then yes, it's an order."

Natasha nodded. "I am going to need to borrow some pyjamas, then. I'd rather not sleep in the nude with children around."

Clint beat down the thoughts that sprang to his head at that and returned his focus to situation at hand. "Alright, I'll see if there's anything your size." He headed up the stairs, noting that Natasha followed him almost completely noiselessly.

"Where will I be sleeping?" She asked him, her voice quieter than a whisper.

"Well, you could have the couch or I could sleep on the couch and you can have the bed." He offered just as quietly, carefully turning the doorknob to his room to make sure the door didn't make any noises to wake his children. He gently slid the door open and led the way to his dresser, digging through some of the drawers- he really needed to work on organising his dresser. "I have some shirts and sweatpants with drawstrings you could tighten." He offered.

Natasha looked around the dresser, her eyes lingering on certain articles of clothing before she accepted what he had offered. "These are great, thanks."

Clint mentally froze when he caught her glancing at the corner of the dresser where he kept… Laura's clothes. He didn't know what to do- they were women's clothes, so they'd certainly fit Natasha better, but… they were _Laura's_. He closed the drawer smoothly, not mentioning the clothes and pointing out the bathroom where Nat could change into his clothes.

She walked off silently and returned changed a few moments later. "I'll be on the couch, asleep." She informed him rigidly.

Clint wanted to call her back and really talk with her, maybe apologise for forcing this on her, but in the end he decided to let things be and wait until morning, after they'd both gotten some much-needed sleep.

* * *

 **Thank you again! :)**


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note:**

 **Good... morning, afternoon, evening, night! Sorry about the irregular postings of chapter, but here's the next chapter!**

 **I'll probably start posting another Clintasha story story, about an undercover mission, so let me know if you'll be interested in that!**

 **Huge thank you to the three wonderful individuals who reviewed my previous chapter:** **Natalia Grayson; discordchick; Princess 2016.**

* * *

By the time Clint had woken up and made his way downstairs the following morning, Natasha was gone. The clothes he had lent her the previous night were neatly folded on the couch. He couldn't even specify what time she had left, but he knew she wouldn't be coming back. She must have decided to run back to the base after all.

Sighing, he went back upstairs to wake the kids up and start the day; there was no point in moping around over Natasha. Lila proved to be immediately hyperactive as soon as her little eyes fluttered open, while Cooper was still half asleep when Clint made him roll out of bed.

"Da- _ad_." Cooper whined, swatting Clint's hand away sluggishly. He sat up and stumbled over to his dresser to pick out his clothes while Clint went back to Lila's room to find her running around her room blindly, her favorite purple dress tangled around her head. He chuckled and helped her pull it all the way on, receiving a hug from the girl before she was off once more.

After a sloppy breakfast of waffles with syrup, Clint had to track down a sprinting Lila to wipe the sticky substance from her face, then came back into the kitchen to find Cooper almost as messy as his sister. As the man was wiping Cooper clean, Lila ran up and tugged on his pant leg.

"Whewe'th Natatha?" She asked, batting her huge, innocent eyes. She pointed to the juice Natasha had brought for them the night before. "Thee left her stuff." Clint patted her head, trying to think too much on where Natasha probably was right then.

"She stayed pretty late and slept here a little, but then she had to get up early and go to work." He explained. Lila frowned but accepted the answer.

Getting the two children into the car was a hassle as well- Lila never liked sitting in her carseat, meaning that she would run all over the house in an attempt to escape, and when she was forcibly buckled in, she would antagonise her brother until she was scolded or until they reached their destination. However, despite this car ride being no different, consisting mostly of obnoxious noises from Lila and annoyed whines from Cooper, Clint was still somewhat saddened when it was time for him to drop them off at the daycare center. He didn't take them there often to avoid leaving too much of a trail to his children's whereabouts, just like he didn't take them out into public all that often, but on days like these, when Bobbi was unavailable and none of the others he trusted could watch the kids, he was left with no choice. Thankfully the kids both enjoyed the time they spent at the center, as they had a rare opportunity to play with other kids, so they never gave him too much trouble when he had to leave them there.

After he'd signed them in and led them to the playroom, he gave them each a big hug and made them promise to be good. Then he forced himself to turn around and walk back the way he came- although he must have sent twenty glances back.

"Have fun!" He called to them as he walked out the front door, both of his children pausing in their play to wave at him. Then he went back to his car and left.

Once he arrived at the base, he immediately searched for Natasha or any signs that she had arrived unscathed. He hadn't seen her on the side of the road at any point during his drive there, so he assumed she was already on-base. He went to her room and knocked on the door, trying not to sound too concerned when he called, "Natasha? You home?"

The door opened to reveal Natasha in full workout clothing. "Hey, Clint." She greeted, stepping out of her room and closing the door.

Well, at least she was unharmed and seemed to be in good health. Somehow, though, those thoughts didn't make him feel any less guilty. "You know, you could have waited and come back here with me- you know, in my car?" He said pointedly. "Why'd you bail?"

"I had to be here earlier. They needed me to spar for an hour this morning." Natasha answered before adding, "You were sleeping."

"And you could have woken me!" Clint protested, internally yelling at himself. Why was he giving her a hard time when _he_ felt like the guilty one? Sighing and rubbing at the bridge of his nose, he softened his tone. "I'm sorry you had to run here. Did it go smoothly? Anybody give you a hard time?"

Natasha stepped around him. "Clint, in case you have forgotten… it wouldn't have mattered if I woke you up- your children cannot get dropped off before 8am." She informed him, walking down the corridor, obviously having somewhere else to be.

Clint debated just walking away and giving her some space- during his rare fights with Laura, that was usually the smartest move. But Natasha… she wasn't Laura. She wouldn't walk up to him after an hour alone with a kind smile and two mugs of her special hot chocolate in hand. Before the familiar pang of grief could hit him at the beloved memory of his wife, he steeled his resolve and hurried after Natasha. "Nat!" He called, grabbing her wrist gently and stopping her. "Nat, we need to talk."

She yanked her wrist out of his grip. "I don't understand what the big issue is! You repeatedly tell me that I have to make my _own_ decisions- that I don't need your approval for something! But when I do something that _I_ want to do, you're not happy with it! I don't understand what you expect from me."

Clint resisted the urge to cower from her wrath, watching the anger in her eyes that he'd seen plenty of times before, but hadn't seen directed at him for so long. It was a very _bad_ feeling. "Nat, I was… concerned… that you offered sex so casually last night." He admitted. "I wanted to talk to you about it, and that's why I wanted you to stay, but it got late and I forgot to bring it up."

"You wanted to talk about sex?" Natasha questioned, actually stepping to one side so they weren't in the middle of the corridor. "In public? Is that not a private matter?"

"No- well, yes, technically, but I'm not talking about actual sex so much as you _offering_ it. It was… I don't know… odd." Clint explained as best he could; the feelings he had on the matter were much more complicated than that.

"Sex is a natural part of life. I… apologise if I made you uncomfortable… again."

Clint groaned. "No, no! Don't make me feel guiltier!" He complained. "I'm not trying to make you feel bad, I swear. I just… ugh!" His brain wasn't cooperating with him, seeming to freeze up every time he attempted eloquent speech. "I was concerned, being your friend and all, that you were offering sex too casually. That's not something you should throw around like that."

Natasha's face remained completely blank and guarded. "I wasn't throwing it around. I was simply offering it to you." She informed him.

"Yeah, I get that… But we're not romantically involved, so it seemed like you were just offering it like it's some platonic pastime. I'm afraid you might offer it to someone else… and they'll accept and just… take advantage of you." He suddenly found it very hard to maintain eye contact, but he certainly did his best not to appear shy.

Natasha rolled her eyes and actually looked annoyed for a split second. "I control my own body; I won't let somebody take advantage of me- not anymore. Now, the message is clear: you don't want to have sex with me. I have somewhere more important to be." She once again turned away from him and walked off.

While Clint really wanted to continue this, he could tell she really wanted him to back off- and she was the last person he wanted to be angry at him. Sighing, he turned and headed for his room to finish his work for the day. He could catch up with Nat later.

* * *

Clint finished putting the folders neatly into his bag and carefully zipped it up before putting it on his shoulder and gathering up his keys and spare files that hadn't fit inside the bag. He made his way to the door, turning off lamps as he went, and locked it behind him before heading for the parking garage where his car was. He'd been torn on whether or not to snag Nat before he left, maybe finish the discussion from earlier, but had ultimately decided that more than a few hours of separation was needed to help quell the tension suddenly between them.

He had just put his bag in the trunk and was starting to close it when Natasha was suddenly at his side.

"Felt like I should inform you that I am heading on a mission and training course for the next couple of months." She said instantly, foregoing a greeting completely.

Clint's heart skipped a beat, but not in a good happy sort of way. He couldn't seem to get his voice to work, so when he moved his mouth in an attempt at speech, no sound escaped him and he felt like a gasping fish. He coughed and tried again, staring intently at one of his tires. "Really? Wow, um… how many months?"

"Do you need some water?" Natasha asked, pulling a bottle of water out of her bag and holding it out to him. "A few months- they wouldn't give me an exact time frame."

Clint numbly accepted the bottle but didn't drink from it, mind racing. When an exact time frame wasn't included, that usually meant it would last so long that the participants were just better off not knowing. He… _really_ didn't like the thought of her being gone for so long. "Nat, I…" His throat froze up.

Natasha shot him a confused look. "Yes?" She prompted, waiting surprisingly patiently.

Clint took a deep breath and decided to just get it all out there. "I don't want you to go." At her affronted look, he was reminded of her anger earlier, and he quickly amended, "I'm not going to stop you, but I'm just letting you know that… you'll be missed."

"I don't understand you right now." Natasha admitted, shaking her head slightly. "I used to understand you, and now I'm getting so many mixed signals from you- going away for a while seems like the best option."

Clint wanted to argue that, yes, going away for awhile would be great, but going away for _months_ was just ridiculous. However, he wasn't going to force anything on her. She was right- he'd been so encouraging of her being the grown woman she was, making her own decisions, and then he shot her down when she tried to do just that. She didn't need that kind of confusion- especially not from him. "Alright. Well, good luck, then, Nat."

"Thank you." Natasha said, and seemed to hesitate. "It is usually socially acceptable that friends exchange a hug before one leaves for an extended period of time- however, seeing as I incorrectly suggested yoga and sex in one sentence yesterday- I probably should just go."

Well, he didn't know how to reply to that. "Okay. Just… could we stay in contact while you're gone? Phone calls, letters… anything?"

Natasha nodded and threw three wrapped gifts into his open car door. "Goodbye, Clint." She said before turning and walking back into the base.

Frowning in confusion, Clint ducked into his car and eyed the three boxes. One was addressed to him, another to Lila, and the other to Cooper. He reached for the one marked with his own name, but faltered and retracted his hand. He would wait to open it- he was too overwhelmed right now. Shooting one last glance at the door through which Natasha had disappeared, he shifted the car into gear and began the drive to the daycare.

* * *

 **Thank you for reading!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's note:**

 **Thank you so much for your continued support! You all give me the motivation to continue, even when things are super busy or stressful to me!**

 **My beta and co-writer, ThisVioletofMine, keeps telling me off for posting before she has done a final read through and beta... haha. I think she's done this one :P**

* * *

Clint was mopping the kitchen floor after a particularly messy dinner, mumbling about teaching the kids to do their own cleaning so he wasn't stuck cleaning up after them when they- mostly Lila- got their food splattered all over the kitchen after a sudden declaration of "Food fight!" He overheard Cooper taunting Lila in the other room as they played board games together.

"Play nice!" He chastised, turning back to his task. He paused when his phone began to ring and leant the mop against the counter, pulling the phone from his back pocket. "Hello?" He asked, pinning the phone between his head and his shoulder as he then picked the mop back up and kept at the chore.

"It's Nat." Came the short and precise reply, the caller effectively identifying herself.

Clint froze, dropping the mop again and focusing completely on the words. "Nat? Why'd you wait so long to call me?" He demanded. It had been two weeks since she'd left, and he hadn't heard anything from her. He'd started to get worried.

"Personal calls can only be made at specific times, at specific locations. You work at S.H.I.E.L.D and taught me the majority of these procedures." Natasha answered indirectly.

"Nat, come on- we both know you could easily get a way to contact me if you wanted to." Clint said knowingly. Natasha could be pretty damn persuasive. It was somewhat saddening, then, that she hadn't even tried before now. Was she angry? He thought they'd cleared the air the night she left.

Natasha huffed slightly. "Then I guess I didn't want to call you until now." She replied slightly harshly.

Clint almost flinched at her tone and the weight behind it. "Nat, come on, let's not… we only get to communicate through phone calls now, so let's not make them hostile, okay?" He may have technically started the argument, as he'd been quick to jump down her throat about her lack of contact, but he didn't want to keep arguing with her. He wanted to enjoy the time he did get with her for now, and they could properly talk when she got back.

"Fine." Natasha agreed. "What are we supposed to be communicating about?" She asked him.

"I dunno… I mean, you called me, so… did you have something in mind?" He asked as conversationally as he could, peeking into the living room to make sure Cooper and Lila were still behaving themselves. They were, so he snuck back into the kitchen and sat on one of the barstools.

There was a few moments of silence, only static and noise from her side coming through. "You asked me to stay in contact, and as this is officially the anniversary of the first time we met- when you tried to shoot me in Russia, two years ago."

Oh, that was true! Clint didn't know if she meant that in a bitter way, though, because while they had met on that day and later became really close friends, like she said, he _had_ tried to shoot her. "Of course! Um, happy anniversary, I suppose." He said as lightly as he could. "What've you been up to over there?"

"Training, a few low key missions... nothing interesting." Natasha answered, almost too politely for it to be Natasha. "How about you?"

"Oh, um… well, the kids miss you… It's a little rough, because I go on lots of solo missions now, and those take a little longer than when you're working with a partner or a team." Why did he say that? He didn't want to make her feel guilty! He only barely restrained himself from slapping his forehead in frustration.

"This will a good time for you to improve, then- aim to complete your solo missions faster and more effectively." Natasha replied, a half sigh almost sounding. "And I miss you… your kids, too."

Clint chuckled a little. "I'll be sure to tell them." He assured. "What kind of training thing is this, anyway? Since when do _you_ need training?" That was something he couldn't seem to get over.

"It's classified." Natasha's very short reply came without hesitation.

Clint sighed and decided to change the subject instead of pressing her. "Lila painted a picture for you- for when you get back."

There was a second before she replied. "I look forward to seeing it. I should go. But I'll call you again at some point."

"Alright. I look forward to it." Clint said somewhat reluctantly- he didn't want to hang up yet.

"Bye." Natasha said before ending the call.

Clint slowly lowered his phone, rubbing a hand over his face, before he gathered himself again and went to join his children.

* * *

Natasha jerked to the side as a speeding bullet grazed her arm. She grunted and laid low for a few seconds, eyes scanning the area. It was another ten minutes before it was clear and she retreated- that was one of the rules. One hit and you're out for the rest of the day.

As she slammed her door shut in aggravation that she had been hit- for the first time- her eyes flickered over to her drawer where her phone was. She had only called Clint once since starting this mission and training session and that was over a month ago. Natasha was never good with conversations, especially when she wasn't sure what the other person wanted to hear, but she had told him she'd call. It was still early in the day, which meant some long hours of doing nothing or paperwork- there wasn't any reason she couldn't call him now.

Within seconds, her phone was against her ear as she heard the ringing- half hoping he wouldn't answer, but half wishing he would answer the call faster.

"Hello?" He answered after a few rings, voice sounding distracted. The shuffling of papers could be heard in the background.

"It's Nat." She informed him; it seemed like the proper way to start the conversation.

He chuckled before replying. "I figured, seeing as virtually no one else calls me when I'm on-base, since they can just ask me in person."

"If you're busy, I can call you later." Natasha said as she heard more ruffling of papers. She held her breath, waiting for his reply as she collected the standard first aid kit.

"No, no, it's fine- I'd appreciate a distraction from this tedious work, actually." Clint rushed to assure. "It's the bane of my existence."

Natasha moved her phone from her mouth as she let out a sigh of relief. She returned it to her face. "And here I thought you loved your job." She teased, balancing her phone as she unzipped the the case, looking at the medical supplies.

Another chuckle. "I love the fun parts of it… Doing paperwork isn't my definition of 'fun'." Clint explained, spinning lazily in his swivel chair by the sounds of it. "So… is your reason for being there still classified?"

"Yes." Natasha replied instantly. She hadn't officially been given clearance to tell anybody what she was doing. "Is your paperwork classified?" She countered.

"Nah, not this stuff. Just the generic permission requests for updates to the quinjets… One moron is asking for a soda machine." Clint said with a genuine laugh behind his voice. "Someone else wants wall sockets so they can charge their phones." He flipped some pages audibly. "Guess how many denials I've dished out in two hours? It's a new record."

Natasha bit her lip as she pressed antiseptic cream onto her wound. "Uhm… a hundred?"

Clint exhaled. "Damn, now the real answer will seem far less impressive. Seventy-two. The other agents in charge of reviewing this stuff really let it accumulate, so I still have almost twenty left- and get this: some of them date back to almost two years ago. I'm surprised no one's been fired over this."

"You really must be bored without me." Natasha commented, involuntarily making a hissing sound as she bandaged up her arm.

The change in Clint's demeanor was evident immediately. "Nat? What's wrong? You just made that I'm-hurt-and-can't-force-myself-to-be-stoic sound." Concern oozed from his voice.

Natasha rolled her eyes. "It's just a little cut, Clint. No need to go all 'dad' on me."

Although he continued the argument, Clint sounded a little less worried. "That's not me going all 'dad' on you. I didn't call you 'young lady', did I?"

She felt her lips turn up slightly at the corners when her door opened. "Clint, I have to go. I'll call you again sometime."

"Really? Come on, Nat, we just started talking!" Clint objected before she ended the call.

"Come on." The other agent ordered, turning around and walking out. Nat threw her phone into her drawer and followed her. She guessed she wasn't going to be sitting around bored all day.

* * *

As Clint handed off his completed stack of mostly-denied requests to one of the clerks working the night shift, he pulled his phone from his pocket and discreetly checked it for any sign of communication from Nat. He found none, and the time on the phone indicated that he was almost five hours late to get home, meaning the nanny had most likely already tucked the children in. Damn, he'd wanted to at least get home in time to say goodnight to them, but it was almost midnight, so they were more than likely asleep. Sighing, he clocked out and left the building, climbing into his car and taking a moment to just sit and relax his sore muscles- he'd been sitting in that uncomfortable chair, hunched over documents, writing almost nonstop, for a majority of the day. He took a breath through his mouth and let it out through his nose. Right as he was getting ready to pull out of the parking space, though, his phone started ringing, making him jump and reach for his gun out of habit. Laughing at his own moment of stupidity, Clint answered the phone. "Hello?"

"It's Nat."

He was starting to think it was a compulsion of hers to begin each phone call with that. "Hey, Nat. Where were you? I was starting to get worried."

"I figured. That's why I called back." Natasha paused. "I'm fine." She added, seemingly as an afterthought.

Clint almost rolled his eyes. "Sure, Nat, you're totally fine- even though you got hurt earlier and refused to elaborate on how bad it actually is." He wasn't an idiot- he'd heard the pained noise she'd made during their last phone call, and she was usually extremely tight-lipped about her own pain.

"It was just a graze- not even close to a flesh wound. I made the mistake of tending to it whilst on the phone with you. An alcohol wipe against any wound stings." Natasha replied, answering his previous question as to what had happened and even elaborating- which was something she rarely did.

Still, he was suspicious. "A graze by what, exactly?"

He could actually imagine her glare. "Would you feel more comfortable if I took a picture of the _graze_ and sent it to you?" She questioned sarcastically.

He didn't miss a beat. "Yes, I would. Was it a knife? A bullet? Shrapnel?"

"It was during a spar- so nothing as glamorous and any of those." Natasha replied, her words carefully said.

Clint knew she was lying. She may have been a professional in deceiving, but he _knew_ when she was lying. "Nat…" He said ominously, leaving the 'fess up' unsaid. She knew him well enough that surely she would know he wouldn't let it go that easily.

"Clint." She replied, letting his name linger for a moment. "Is this really how you want to spend this call?" She asked him, as if this call was anything more than the other two had been.

"Discerning your health status? For all I know you could be riddled with bullets with only moments to live. So tell me what's going on with you, and then I'll let it go." Clint said firmly. He needed to make sure she was okay, and that meant forcing it out of her, since she would try to keep being stabbed _fifty times_ a secret.

There was a moment of silence. "If I ever _was_ moments away from dying, I wouldn't be calling you." She stated before silence again ruled the call. He heard a shuffle. "Check your email- two photos: one of the _graze_ , the other of me. Satisfied yet?"

Clint opened his email and looked at the two pictures she'd sent. "Nat, this is a bullet wound!" He said into the phone in mild horror. "What the hell kind of training are you participating in?" Sure, their training as spies had been rough, but live rounds had never been used during their sessions, just to avoid accidentally killing any of their promising agents. Also, it was a measure to avoid any lawsuits from scorned trainees who wanted a quick buck by suing a government agency.

"If you are going to be like this, there are better things I can be doing with my time. Such as sleeping." Natasha replied, her voice serious.

Clint sighed. "Fine, fine. Know how long until you're coming back?" He asked, changing the subject.

"No, it's still unknown." Natasha replied. "I'm starting to get bored, though."

Clint almost laughed at that- trust Natasha to get bored with intensive spy training. "Sounds totally lame. Tell me you at least have Netflix access!"

He actually heard her groan. "No. I had to hack another agent's wifi just to send you the pictures."

He frowned. "Really? What kind of torture camp are they running?" As he spoke, he located his bluetooth earpiece and turned it on, putting his phone down as he backed out of the parking space.

"You know S.H.I.E.L.D." Natasha pointed out, not answering his rhetorical question.

Well that wasn't reassuring in the slightest. "Yes, I do- which is why I don't like this one bit." He said pointedly as he exited the parking garage.

"I thought we'd actually _not_ talk about S.H.I.E.L.D- I'll call you another time. I'm tired."

"Nat, I've got a lonely car ride ahead of me- could you talk to me a little longer?" Clint asked, pleading but not to a pitiful extent. "We could talk about… the kids, if you wanted. Or that book you said you were reading."

There was silence for a moment. "How are your kids?" She asked.

Clint smiled, though it was bittersweet, since he was reminded that he wouldn't get to talk to his children when he got home. "Cooper is learning the piano through an app on our tablet, and I totally doubted it could work, but just yesterday he played several little songs without a hitch!" It wasn't often he got to brag about his children's accomplishments, mostly due to a lack of people to brag to, and he found he enjoyed it very much.

"That's great! He must be a natural. And Lila?" Natasha prompted.

"Lila's birthday is coming up, so she's been running around looking for where I've hidden her presents this year. The kid is a freakishly good climber, so it's hard to hide things from her." Clint regaled, remembering the time Lila managed to get on top of the fridge using only a chair and her monkey reflexes, easily getting into the birthday gifts hidden in the cupboard up there.

Natasha chuckled. "That's sweet. Maybe she'll grow up to be a S.H.I.E.L.D agent too." She commented.

Clint laughed quietly. "Yeah, right. She might have skills, but she doesn't like getting her hands dirty. I think she'll be a literal princess when she grows up, honestly. That or, as she's said a few times, a horse." This time he couldn't stop himself from laughing a little louder at it. His daughter was adorably hilarious.

Natasha chuckled slightly before the line went dead.

Sighing, Clint took his bluetooth out of his ear and turned on the radio, hoping to hear from her again soon.

* * *

Natasha stepped out of the shower. It was good to wash all of the blood and dirt from her skin- the missions were getting a lot more intense and she knew she was finally trusted within S.H.I.E.L.D. It was a strange feeling, being publically accepted by more than just one person- she had thought Clint was an exception, and then Fitz… and now, more people. She subconsciously picked up her phone, blocked the caller ID and called Clint- it had probably been too long; she had been planning to call on his daughter's birthday, but was actually busy for once.

This time it took longer than the first ring for him to pick up. After four rings, his groggy voice filtered through the receiver. "Hello?" He yawned loudly and the rustling of sheets could be heard as he shifted in bed. "Who's calling at four in the morning?"

Her eyes flickered to the time- she hadn't realised what the time was. "It's Nat- sorry for disturbing you."

"Nah, it's fine." He mumbled tiredly. "What's up? How've you been?"

"Fine. How about you?" Natasha replied shortly, slipping on her pyjamas and sliding into bed.

Clint was quiet for a few seconds. "I'm pretty good… They aren't working you too hard, are they?" Beneath the haze of sleep in his voice was clear worry, a concern that had always been in his voice when they shared phone calls during her absence.

She smiled lightly. "You don't have to worry about me, Clint. I can take care of myself. You haven't gotten yourself into any trouble whilst I've been away?" She teased lightly, needing a good rapport right now to keep her grounded.

"You know me- of course I did. Lila wanted a _pink_ stuffed dog for her birthday, not a _purple_ one. She refused to speak to me for an hour until I broke out the birthday cake." Clint replied with a laugh.

Natasha held back a chuckle as she turned off her light; she didn't need that to talk. "That's a big difference. Tut tut. I thought super-spies take note of _details_?"

Clint made an affronted grunt. "Hey, it's not my fault that her favourite colour keeps changing! It was purple when she told me she wanted a stuffed dog!"

"And when did she tell you that?" Natasha asked, slightly patronisingly.

"... Two months ago." Clint replied sheepishly. "But hey, at least I remembered that she _wanted_ a stuffed dog!"

"Clint, you need to pay more attention- otherwise, before you know it, she'll be wearing miniskirts and sneaking out of the house to meet boys, and you won't ever know who her current boyfriend is." Natasha teased, knowing that that scenario would not sit well with Clint.

Predictably, Clint sounded enraged at the idea. "No daughter of mine will wear a skirt less than knee-length, and that's only with leggings underneath. I will deadbolt the doors shut each night to make sure she never sneaks out, and I won't let her start dating 'till she's thirty." He declared.

Natasha scoffed. "Great, give her more reasons to rebel and hate you."

"I thought that only happened when a father figure _isn't_ present." Clint commented exasperatedly.

She actually laughed. "All teenagers rebel, and overprotective parents are one of the main reasons. Good luck with that."

Clint sighed. "I can't _wait_ to raise teenagers on my-" He cut off, and there was silence for a moment. "Hey, Nat? You'll be my partner for a long time, right?" He asked unexpectedly. The question itself was rather pitiful-sounding, but the way he said it sounded more concerned and maybe anxious.

"Potentially." Natasha answered warily. "Probably until one of us dies on a mission."

There was an exhale that sounded relieved. "That's about as good of a guarantee as I can ask for." He said with a chuckle. "I… I can't imagine us _not_ working together, you know? I don't think I'd feel… whole, I suppose."

That was dangerous territory, and she knew it. "Clint, we are both, as of last week, cleared for solo missions, too. So we will be _not_ working together unless S.H.I.E.L.D needs us both there." She informed him, feeling the need to distance herself right now.

Silence. "... Oh. Well, we'll still be in constant contact, right? And you'll still come over and visit? Lila and Coop really miss you." He asked, sounding hopeful.

"What are you doing?" Natasha asked blatantly. She wasn't one who promised anything, especially to be a constant figure in somebody's life, and she and Clint understood each other. They were both primarily solo agents, and she was his trainee. Over time, she had come to trust him, and they had probably grown to be friends. Although now it sounded like he expected her to make some sort of commitment regarding their relationship- and she wasn't sure if it was just about being work partners anymore.

"What do you mean? I was just asking." Clint said, sounding slightly defensive before releasing a breath. "Nevermind. Forget it."

Natasha lifted the phone from her face for a moment, contemplating what to say; she didn't want to go down this road with Clint, especially at this moment. "Fine, it's forgotten. Bye." She said sharply before hanging up the call, not giving him a chance to get a word in. Dropping her phone onto the floor, she laid back on the bed and took a deep breath. There was no way she'd be sleeping tonight.

* * *

Clint watched Cooper and Lila playing on the swingset in the backyard wistfully, wishing he had a camera but not wanting to move to get one. They were so sweet when they played; it was like they were the only people in the world, they were so involved. Sighing, he ran a hand over his face and turned back to the kitchen table, where the thin folder lay. It was rather unassuming, innocent-looking and labelled in a jumble of words a non-S.H.I.E.L.D-agent wouldn't understand as code. It was a mission report that he had received earlier that day, detailing a mission Natasha herself had headed several weeks ago. Everything had gone perfectly, of course- Natasha wasn't one for sloppiness. But looking at the folder made his heart sink. It reminded him of the fact that Natasha hadn't called him in six weeks- longer than any other time she'd failed to call.

He was conflicted between feeling guilty, angry, and just worried. She was tough- surely if she wasn't calling, it meant she was either intentionally giving him the cold shoulder or she was gravely injured or dead. He was tempted to go storming up to Fury and demand to know where Natasha was, what she was doing, and when she'd be back, but ultimately decided against it- if Natasha was just fine, she would hate him for not trusting her and for butting in on something that really wasn't his business.

So all Clint could really do was file his paperwork, do his solo missions, care for his children and wait for the day when either a call from Natasha or the woman herself finally returned.

* * *

 **Thank you for reading!**

 **How will the months of separation affect them? Was Natasha over reacting about his questions? Why hasn't he (or she) mentioned the small gifts she gave them before departing?**


	10. Reunion

**Author's Note:**

 **Hello! Thank you for all of your support, thank you to, Princess2016; Tamara; Discordchick. for reviewing!**

* * *

Natasha sat on her bed back at the S.H.I.E.L.D base; there was something bittersweet about being back. In a lot of ways, this was her home, but she also knew that a S.H.I.E.L.D base wasn't home. She had been back from her mission and training course for just under two hours now and had not contacted Clint in a few months. She knew she was acting childish, but in her defence, she _had_ been busy.

She had been given a few days off for general recovery, even though she wasn't injured- just the odd bruise, graze or wound. Spinning her phone around idly for a few moments, she finally rang Clint- which she had been contemplating for the last two hours.

"Hello." Clint answered, the greeting being a statement instead of the usual question. "I'm assuming 'it's Nat'?" His voice was slightly teasing, though not without fondness. Without waiting for her answer, he continued. "It's great to hear from you again, Nat. Why haven't you called me?"

"I've been busy, Clint- just didn't find the time." Natasha answered straight away, biting her lip at the half lie.

"Uh-huh. Suuure…" He drawled, but the happiness to be talking to her was quite evident. "So what're you up to now, then?"

Natasha scanned the confines of her room, twisting her lip for a second beneath her teeth. "Wondering how free you are to talk. How long you have to talk." She stated, although it was obvious that they were questions directed at him.

Clint chuckled. "I dunno… I mean, I'm busiest at seven in the evening, what with all my appointments and meetings and clients and such... I might not be able to clear my schedule." He laughed again. "Nah, we're good to talk for an hour or so. What's up?"

She nodded, even though he couldn't see her, as she took in all of the information. Curiosity to see how he looked- as then she could really gauge how he was- made her decide to reveal she was actually back. "Okay, are you in your office? I could come to you, or you could just come to my room." She said carefully.

There was an instantaneous sound of a chair being abandoned. "You're back? Damnit, Nat, why didn't you say so sooner? Where are you?" Clint demanded, dozens of emotions filtering into his voice.

"My room." She answered, glancing at her door in anticipation. "And I did tell you- just now." She added as an afterthought, wanting to defend not making a big deal out of it.

Hurried footsteps came through the phone. "You stay exactly where you are." He instructed sternly. Moments later her door was almost slammed open and Clint was marching in and right over to her. "You're back!" He exclaimed, looking ready to hug her but respecting her personal space.

"Please, enter." She muttered sarcastically, ending the call and tossing her phone to one side before standing up. "One hug, no longer than seven seconds- one second per month I was gone." She told him before opening her arms and letting him pull her into a hug.

Clint instantly obliged, holding her tightly. "How about one second per day that I missed you?" He asked lightly, holding on way past the seven-second mark.

Natasha allowed the hug to go on longer, not actually wanting it to end. "Sorry, Barton, but you have meetings, appointments and clients- you might not be able to clear your schedule." Natasha said, throwing his words back at him as she pulled back out of the hug.

Clint laughed genuinely, and it was a pleasing sound. "I'd clear any appointments for you." He assured her. "How are you?" He asked once things had settled a little, eyes scanning over her as though he could instantly detect any injuries.

She waited to see if he noticed any, which she knew he wouldn't, before answering his question. "I'm fine. How are you?"

He smiled. "I'm great." He said, sobering up as they began to talk more generally, his expression morphing a little. "Nat, why didn't you call me? Four months without contact is unacceptable, especially in our… profession."

"I already answered that question." Natasha pointed out without answering it. Lying to his face was definitely harder than over the phone.

He seemed to pick up on the lie much more easily this time. "Yeah, but not completely. Like I've said before, if you want to do something, it doesn't matter how busy they make you- you always find a way to do what you want to."

She frowned at him before slipping back onto the bed and leaning against the headboard. "I couldn't commit to the time you wanted in each call." She answered. "Thought it would be easier to just not call than having to end prematurely."

Clint groaned in frustration. "Nat, just hearing from you for a minute would be better than constantly wondering whether or not you had died in some shady training thing!" He exclaimed, beginning to pace.

"Don't be so melodramatic, Clint. You're my emergency contact, so you would be informed if I died." Natasha stated, almost rolling her eyes. He was being ridiculous now- and she thought only females were supposed to get overly emotional over insignificant things.

"That's not helping!" Clint retorted. "You could still have been injured!"

Natasha actually let out a groan; now she remembered why she hadn't been calling him- he cared too much about her and she didn't know what to do with it. "I'm sure if I was injured to a certain degree they would have informed you- but I'm fine!"

Clint rolled his eyes. "Yeah, just like you were 'fine' when you were grazed by a bullet! Your definition of 'fine' and mine are totally different."

"Well, fine, then. I'm _good_." Natasha threw out at him. "Did you want to give me a bodily examination so I can prove _that_?" She demanded, not quite sure why she is so annoyed at him doubting her- it's not like she hadn't been doubted by most people since arriving at S.H.I.E.L.D, even by him on occasions, before.

Clint plopped onto a chair and rain his hands through his hair frustratedly. "No, I just… I'm just _pissed_ , Nat! I'm your friend- you shouldn't just leave me to worry for _months_!"

She sighed, her face still holding its hard and determined expression. "I can take care of myself. I'm more likely to contact you if something's going wrong than if everything is fine, anyway." She informed him.

"So is that why you called me today, then? Something wrong?" Clint asked, a hint of a smile pulling at his mouth.

Natasha took his slight change of direction, glad to see him cracking a bit of a smile. "Yes." She replied, seeing that smile instantly disappear from his face. She took a deep breath before continuing. "I missed you."

His smile returned. "Aww, Nat- that's so sweet." He batted his eyelashes. "Did you miss my devilish good looks or my winning personality?"

"I want to take it back." She instantly replied. "I swear I just saw your ego get bigger right before my eyes."

Clint rolled his eyes. "I missed you too, Captain Sarcastic." He said fondly. "Without you my ego would stay stunted and pitifully small."

Natasha cracked a smile, shaking her head slightly. "Clint, could you do me a favour?" She asked.

Clint looked at her, giving her a small nod as his gaze turned calculating.

"I haven't eaten junk food since I was last with you, and…" She drifted off, knowing that he knew what she was getting at and really not wanting to officially ask.

Clint broke into a borderline idiotic smile. "Say no more, my friend. Follow me- I have a secret stash in my desk, and I must say, it's quite formidable."

Natasha didn't hesitate to stand up, grabbing her jacket and slipping it on, even though they weren't leaving the base. "After you." She said, waiting for him to leave her room before locking it behind her.

* * *

Natasha took a bite of the delicious chocolate bar, choosing Clint's favourite in favour of her own. She relaxed ever so slightly against the chair as she looked at him, wondering if he knew how much he meant to her. "I need to get myself a supply of junk food." She commented, wanting to start a conversation between the two of them back up.

Clint smirked and popped a potato chip into his mouth. "We need to have a joint stash that we both add to- it'll be glorious!" He declared.

"I'd end up eating more than I add." Natasha admitted.

Clint pulled a face. "And you'd still have a perfect figure- meanwhile I'd swell up like a blimp." He laughed and happily ate another handful of chips. "Maybe we have a quota for how much we add per week? Then we ration what we have to avoid one of us overeating?" He pondered, thinking way too much on something as insignificant as a stash of junk food.

She looked at him; all of his independent speeches seeming to come to her all right now. "No. I'll eat as much as I want- I don't care about getting fat." She decided, and then as an afterthought sent him an innocent smile.

He snorted. "Like _you_ could ever get fat. Hey, try one of these." He extended a hand, in which was a single potato chip. "It's cheesy barbecue flavour, which I was a little wary about at first, but it's _so_ good!"

Natasha accepted the chip and turned it over in her hand before eating it. She couldn't help but pull a face to nonverbally inform him what she thought of it before looking at him. "You have a poor sense of taste."

Clint made an offended face. "Excuse me? Who was the one who introduced you to Hershey's, again?" He leaned back in his swivel chair pointedly, munching away on another fistful of chips.

She chose to not answer the question and finished her chocolate bar. As she opened her mouth to start another conversation, his phone rang and she halted. He _did_ say he had meetings, and as far as she could tell, he hadn't cancelled them.

Clint licked his fingers clean and hastily pulled the phone from his pocket, reading the caller ID. "It's the babysitter." He muttered before pressing the speakerphone button and setting it on his desk. "Hey, Patricia. What's up?"

There was a strange noise on the other end before a little boy said, "Hey, Daddy!"

Clint rolled his eyes. "Coop, did you steal Patty's phone again? I told you it's not polite."

"I didn't!" Cooper defended quickly. "I made Lila do it!"

Natasha had to hold back a snigger at that, but made sure to not make a sound.

"Thee doethn't know it'th gone!" Lila inputted. Clint sighed and put a hand to his face.

"I really am raising little spies." He bemoaned under his breath. "Okay, well, what's so important that you had to steal your babysitter's phone to get ahold of me?"

Cooper giggled. "Just wondering what your surprise for my birthday will be." He said. Clint stiffened.

"Oh, uh." He caught himself, quickly slipping back into his self-assured and confident persona. "I can't tell you, now, can I? Otherwise it wouldn't be a surprise."

"Da- _ad_!" Cooper whined.

Lila squeaked. "Tell me! Tell me! It'th not _my_ birthday! Tell me!" She requested, her voice getting higher in excitement.

Clint sent Natasha a look that she couldn't quite interpret. "Nice try, silly." He teased the little girl. "You'll find out tomorrow, remember?"

Cooper made a disappointed sound. "Yeah, okay. I bet it's gonna be awesome! Right, Dad?"

Clint chuckled. "Of course it is! Now, I gotta get back to work, kids. See you tonight- and give Patty her phone back."

"Yes, Dad." The children said simultaneously before hanging up. Clint visibly relaxed into his seat, letting out an all-suffering groan.

"Shit! I forgot to get him a surprise present!" He went quiet for a moment, seeming to think of something, before tilting his head to look at Natasha. "Hey, Nat, would you happen to be free tomorrow evening?" He asked with sudden forced casualness.

Natasha studied his expression extensively for a few moments and hoped that he just wanted her help setting something up. "I have nothing scheduled." She answered shortly.

"So would you mind being Cooper's birthday surprise?" Clint inquired hopefully.

She hesitated. "No." She answered before pausing. "I don't mind coming, but I'm not a present, Clint." She answered awkwardly- she knew what he was referring to. But she had been given as a 'birthday present' a few times when she was in the Red Room, and that reference just gave her the creeps. "Can't you just get him a bouncy castle? I hear that kids love that."

"I doubt they'd rent one to me so last-minute…" Clint muttered, tossing his crumpled-up chip bag into the trash can. "But yeah, you being there would be great! They've missed you so much, so I think it would really make his birthday special."

"I'll… buy him a present tomorrow morning." Natasha said as she stood up. "You should go to your meetings, because I am going to steal you tomorrow to find a brilliant surprise for your son." She informed him.

Clint looked like he was about to choke on the only remaining chip that he'd just stuck in his mouth. "Really? You're amazing, you know that, Nat?" He oozed gratefully. "Could you just be my secretary, actually? You could scare away everyone I have to meet with and set my paperwork on fire. I'd pay well."

She knew he was joking and smirked. "I'm sure killing the first few would stop anybody from disturbing you." She said casually.

Clint just smirked back. "You're so evil- and I love it."

With a roll of her eyes, she walked out of the room. Natasha halted for a second and took a deep breath- now she had to work out what to buy Cooper, and she knew she was out of her league- she needed help.

* * *

 **Thank you for reading!**

 **I wanted to know if you wanted this story to be more of a longer written story, or a shorter more precise story. Either way works with my plan and idea, I just wanted your guys' opinion! Thank you!**


	11. Party

**Author's Note:**

 **Boo! Hello there! Fanfiction is being weird with the viewing of reviews, so even though I really want to thank you all personally, I don't want to accidently leave anybody out. So, in general THANK YOU! And all of those followers, favouriters (Is that a word?) and Readers, thank you! :D**

* * *

Natasha looked through her clothes and frowned; not only did she have to work out what gift to buy a _seven-year-old_ , but she had to work out what to wear to a _birthday party._ Sure, she had dressed casually when she'd met the kids before, but that was _supposed_ to be casual. Apart from casual and tactical, she didn't really have much clothing.

She refused to ask for Clint's help, especially after throwing the fact that they could do solo missions and all of the independent crap she keeps throwing back at him. She'd look weak. However, Clint wasn't the only person she could go to for advice.

It didn't take her long to find the scientist in one of the labs with his best friend. "Fitz, do you have a moment?" She asked when the whole lab looked up when she entered.

"Me? Sure!" He quickly spluttered, clearly taken by surprise, but that didn't stop him from exiting the room in a hurried and flustered fashion. "Welcome back! What do you need? I mean, can I help you? I have some new toys I've been working on; there's a smaller taser which you can throw at people and electrocute somebody instead of-"

Natasha interrupted him, although she would come back to the small portable tasers in a moment. "We're friends, right?"

Now he looked even more shocked and flustered before nodding rapidly and leaning against the wall. "Yeah! Definitely! We're friends." He confirmed, standing up straight when he somehow almost slid off the wall at a weird angle.

"I have to go to a seven-year-old's birthday party. Two things: what am I expected to wear, and what do I buy the kid?"

"Oh… Uh…" Fitz stumbled over his words for a second. "A children's party? Nothing too nice; kids are messy and you'll ruin your outfit." He paused. "And what does the kid like?"

Natasha stared at him for a long moment, not expecting there to be more than one answer for both questions- she just presumed she didn't know them. "What _does_ he like?" She repeated before answering, "Birds and video games."

Fitz nodded thoughtfully for a moment before making a sound of excitement. "There's a new interactive science game where you can do experiments on the screen to see the possible outcomes before you accidentally melt… anything."

"A science game? Seven-year-olds are interested in science?" Natasha questioned.

Fitz nodded quickly. "Yes, I _loved_ science at that age! All of the didn't aspects of it…"

Natasha nodded, ignoring his ramblings. "Thank you." She said, interrupting him mid-word as she walked off. She had some shopping to do.

* * *

Clint pulled into the driveway and put the car in park before circling around to the trunk and grabbing the large present from inside. Natasha had, true to her word, helped him find the perfect present only an hour earlier, and while it wasn't wrapped- he hadn't the time, skill or patience to do so- it was in a large gift bag. Hefting the monstrous bag over his shoulder, he shut the trunk and hiked to the front door, which was yanked open the minute he neared.

"Daddy! Is that for me?" Cooper asked in awe as both he and Lila walked circles around their father, trying to better see what the present could be.

"Sure is! Happy birthday, Coop." Clint said fondly, ruffling the boy's hair and placing the present on the dinner table. He'd already gotten the balloons the day before, and had tasked Cooper, Lila, and Patty to inflate them, meaning that a rainbow of balloons was now decorating almost every room. "Great job on the decorating." He commented.

After almost an hour of setting up, Clint was pleased with the progress and the way it looked- not even close to Laura's elegant decorations and cakes, but it was pretty impressive, if he was being honest. The first kid to arrive, Jeffery, was a newer friend of Cooper's, and almost twice as hyper- almost immediately after he got there, the two were off to play in the backyard while Lila continued to 'help' set up. Clint hung up streamers and smiled as he taped the 'Happe berthday Coper' sign Lila had made (with a little help from Patty, of course). As Clint was setting the cake on the table- lumpy and misshapen, sure, but made lovingly- he noticed that suddenly there was someone else in the room. "When'd you get here, Nat?" He asked curiously, noting the gift she held.

"Just now." Natasha answered, placing her gift on the table.

Clint nodded. "Well, you're right on time, as usual." He said. Lila, just having come down the stairs, gasped and sprinted to Natasha, latching onto her legs.

"Natatha! You'we here!" She cried ecstatically.

"Hello, Lila." Natasha replied, bending down and hugging the young girl. "Have you been good?"

Lila nodded and gave a huge smile. "Uh-huh! You wewe gone for a long time!" She giggled and clung tighter. Clint held back a chuckle at the sight.

Natasha nodded. "I _was_ gone for a long time." She confirmed. "But I'm here now. Want to run and tell the birthday boy?"

"Uh-huh!" Lila cried, racing out to the backyard.

Clint went over to Natasha, wiping his hands on his apron and smudging flour on it. "Thanks for coming, Nat. It'll mean a lot to him." He said genuinely, excited to see his son's reaction.

She rolled her eyes. "You don't even know if he'll be excited." She replied simply, looking around the house. "It's very… colourful."

"Well yeah, it's a kid's birthday party." Clint replied with a chuckle. "And I _do_ know that he'll be excited." He added matter-of-factly. Cooper loved Natasha, and seeing her for the first time in months was bound to be a joyful occasion.

"Hey, Clint." Bobbi greeted, placing her gift beside Natasha's on the table before nodding her head to Natasha. "Agent Romanoff."

Natasha's eyes flickered over the other woman. "Agent Morse."

Clint felt like there was something odd going on there, but didn't give it much thought. "Stop being so formal! It's a birthday party!" At that moment, Cooper, wide-eyed, came barreling inside, skidding to a stop in front of Natasha.

"You _are_ back!" He cried excitedly. "This is _awesome_!" Unlike Lila, Cooper was a bit more mindful of personal space and boundaries, so he didn't immediately tackle Natasha like Clint knew he wanted to.

"Hey, I heard it was your birthday- couldn't miss it!" Natasha replied, ruffling his hair. "Oh, come and give me a big birthday boy hug."

Lila sprinted past them. "AUNTIE BOBBI!" She exclaimed, jumping on the other agent as if she hadn't just seen her the day before.

"Whoa there, little spider monkey." Clint lightly chastised his daughter, who had no sense of personal space. She snickered and relinquished Bobbi.

Cooper, meanwhile, was eagerly giving Natasha a huge hug. "Thank you, Natasha!" He said into her shoulder. "Best. Birthday. Ever!"

Bobbi picked up Lila and walked off, muttering something in her ear, whilst Natasha picked Cooper up for a few seconds before putting him down.

Clint chuckled as Cooper began bouncing eagerly, dragging Natasha by the wrist all over to show her the various decorations, Lila running over to join them as Bobbi made her way back over to him. "What'd you get him?" He asked conspiratorially.

"You'll have to wait and see." Bobbi teased with a smile, looking around. "I'm surprised you actually agreed to have Cooper invite some of his friends. Any of the fellow 6-7-year-olds have criminal records to be wary about?" She continued teasing.

"Well, Mackenzie over there has a record of breaking chalk when she thinks no one's looking." Clint replied with as much seriousness as he could muster before breaking into a laughing fit, with which Bobbi joined in.

"I'll keep a watchful eye on her- there will be no chalk murders happening on my watch!"

Clint laughed harder. "I don't want to know what it's like being a _normal_ parent." He commented gleefully. "Like, how boring must it be to have a non-agent dad?"

Bobbi chuckled. "They're lucky to have you." The doorbell rang- he had almost expected everybody to just walk in like both Nat and Bobbi did- and before he hand chance to go and answer it, Bobbi stopped him. "I'll be on door duty. You're on 'best birthday' duty." She informed him before answering the door.

Clint nodded, sending a grateful smile in her direction before walking out into the backyard.

* * *

"Thanks for coming!" Clint called at the retreating backs of the Sorensons, their son Billy skipping between them and happily waving back to Clint. Once they had driven away, he let out a sigh of relief. All of the lesser-known guests were officially gone, meaning this was now a close friends party.

When he returned to the living room, he smiled when he saw that little Lila, stuffed with cake and totally pooped, was passed out on Bobbi on the couch, her sparkly party hat drooping over her forehead. He turned to Cooper, who was eagerly building a new creation with the Lego set one of his friends had given him. "Was that an awesome party or what?" He asked with a grin. Cooper returned the smile cheerfully.

"It was _awesome_!" He exclaimed before diving into his pile of unwrapped gifts to find something new to play with. Clint continued on to the kitchen, where Natasha was leaning against the counter languidly.

"Man, I am all partied out." He groaned, though his smile didn't fade. He began gathering empty plastic cups from the counters and the table and throwing them away.

Natasha stepped to the side and started clearing a different counter. "It's a good thing it's over, then."

Clint raised a brow at her. "Did you enjoy any of it at all? I know screaming children isn't your forte, but please tell me you weren't suffering the whole time."

"It was interesting." Natasha replied cryptically, barely answering the question as she picked up a cloth to wipe down the counters.

He snorted. "Which is basically Natasha-Speak for 'it sucked ass and you're a terrible host.'" As he spoke, he peeked out into the living room to make sure everything was still smooth sailing- Cooper was still neck-deep in toys and Bobbi was still being used as a pillow.

"You had seven children running around, hyper, making a mess, and all of the parents were complaining about everything. Do you know how much control it took for me to not cut all of their tongues out for how rude they were?" Natasha questioned rhetorically.

Still, Clint answered anyway. "I'd say about seventy-nine percent of all of the control in your body was put to the task, which is astronomically higher than the usual forty-three percent." He said in a nasally voice. He noticed Bobbi picking Lila up and walking from the room, presumably to put the youngster into her bed.

"I should probably head back to the base." Natasha informed him as he turned back to face them.

"You're not going to stay for post-party drinks? They'll be alcoholic." Clint tempted, opening the previously locked cupboard to reveal a selection of alcoholic beverages. When Natasha leant over to take a look, he stepped from the room. "Grab what you want, I'm going to see if I can coax Cooper into going to bed." He said, heading over to where his son was tearing open yet another packaged toy. "Time for bed, Coop." He said. It took lots of negotiating- "yes, you can take your toys," "no, you can't sleep with your action figures- they'll poke you all night, that's why!"- and lots of patience to finally get Cooper in bed for the night.

* * *

Natasha sat opposite Bobbi as she returned from putting Lila down. She looked to the stairs, waiting for Clint to return. "Could you tell him that I had to go?" She asked.

"No." Bobbi replied, making her slightly confused. "Can you do me a favour?"

"No."

"Clint needs friends around, and if I didn't have a mission in a few minutes, I would stay. He was absolutely wrecked after Lila's birthday, the first one without Laura. And it's obvious to me that the only reason he's holding himself together right now is because he doesn't want _you_ to see him as a mess." Bobbi informed her. "So, as a favour _for Clint_ , even though he'd never ask, can you hang around for a while?"

Natasha sighed and didn't have time to officially respond when Clint returned. "Save any for me?"

Bobbi sipped her drink. "Of course- we're not _that_ cruel to leave you empty-handed."

"Well, _she's_ not." Natasha added the snide comment.

Clint smirked. "Well, the kindness of one of you is enough for me." He accepted the proffered drink and took a large sip of it.

Bobbi's phone beeped. "Ah, that's my ride. See you both in a week or two." She said, quickly finishing her drink and standing up.

Clint stood as well and gave her a quick hug. "Thanks again for coming, Bob." He said, chin on her shoulder.

"Anytime, Clint." She replied, returning the hug warmly before waving to Nat. "Nice meeting you."

"You too." Natasha replied as Bobbi walked out of the room.

Clint finished his drink and seemed to notice that Natasha's glass was almost empty. He poured her some more before doing the same to his own glass. "Thank you again for coming today."

Natasha bobbed her head slightly. "You're welcome. It was nice to see your children again." She replied, not sure how to play this. She wasn't sure what she and Clint were anymore; for a long time they were just partners- he was her Supervising Officer, but now, things were more complicated. She didn't like complicated. But Bobbi was right- he shouldn't have to deal with this alone. "Oh, you never told me- what did you all think of the little gifts I got you before I left?"

He smiled. "Well, Lila loves her stuffed hummingbird, Cooper played with his toy car for a week straight, and I haven't tasted mine yet." He reached up and pulled a small bottle of clear liquid from the cabinet. "No time like the present, though, right?" He took the cap off the bottle and tipped it into his mouth, swallowing all of its contents at lightning speed and then shuddering. "Oh, wow, that was bitter." He coughed. "And painful." He added hoarsely.

Natasha stared at him, open-mouthed, for a few seconds, unable to believe he'd _actually_ just done that. "Did you not read the label? That was Absinthe 179 Proof- it's literally 74% concentrate."

The look on his face was priceless. "...What?"

* * *

Clint swallowed another mouthful of his drink. "What did all the other… you know… parents say? Anything in'eresting?" He asked suggestively, his words slurring slightly.

She pondered this question for a few moments as she sipped her drink. "Julia and Albert are going through a divorce, which they aren't telling their children about yet- apparently he caught her cheating with Polly and is overreacting." She replied with a shrug.

He offered a melodramatic sympathetic wince. "You know… You know what I heard? I heard that Mark and Theresa are going to… Uh… Cannannada… Canada. Canada in a month and leaving their son with… someone…" He took another gulp of his drink, carelessly spilling a few drops down his chin. He groaned indignantly. "I got the _boring_ gossip."

"Did you at least notice that Grace is pregnant? Although she's not telling anybody yet- but it's so obvious." Natasha replied with a cheeky smile, finding a drunk Clint _hilarious_.

Clint laughed, a little too hard for the conversation. "D'you know that Katie is bugging her husband to let her get breasts… uh... bigger!? Apparently he finds that something to complain about."

Natasha let out a scoff. "Her boobs are small. I thought all guys liked big boobs?" She asked.

Clint laughed, corny smile pasted seemingly permanently on his face. "All guys like big boobs! But we can't say that… because… obje...ct… we gotta be like… gennnalman… or gentle or something. You know?" He blinked slowly. "Did you know you got big boobs? They're huuuge." He slurred.

She let out a half-sigh, half-chuckle. "Men have mentioned that a few times in my life."

He scratched absently at his cheek, his mouth pulled into a weird grin. "They're, like, works of… of… uh…" He frowned. "They're… circles."

Natasha glanced down at her own chest. "Yeah, I suppose they are." She smirked as she looked back up at him. "What do you like most about the… circles?" She could already imagine how much fun it would be to tease him about this later.

"They're… they're… num- uh… numbers. Uh… sex-sexual numbers…" He blinked repeatedly. "Oh, uh, no, uh, shapes. Shapes. _Shaaapes…_ "

"Boobs are shapes, yes- yes they are." Natasha replied. "How about we get you to bed?" She suggested. It was getting late and she didn't think his children would be sympathetic to their dad having a hangover.

Clint attempted a smirk- or something of that nature. "Are you… uh… oh, uh, yes please." He finally settled on, leaning in a little too close. "Yours or… me- _mine_?"

Natasha rolled her eyes; he was the worst drunk-flirt she had met in a while. He wasn't the worst _ever_ , but still pretty bad. She slung one arm around his waist. "Yours." She answered. She wasn't going to sleep with him, but making him believe that was probably the easiest way to get him to cooperate going up the stairs.

He giggled- _giggled_. "Okaay." He slurred, standing abruptly from his seat and knocking it over in the process. "Fix it, Na- Nat- uh, Na-Naru...to? Naruto…" He pointed to the seat, but already his attention had flitted elsewhere. "Your… uh, shirt… 's blue."

"Actually, it's green- but close." Natasha complimented. "Come on, let's get upstairs." She encouraged, guiding him as quickly and quietly as she could.

He stumbled the entire way, and when she led him to the bed, he tried unsuccessfully to take his shirt off, only managing to wrinkle his sleeve, by which point he promptly gave up and flopped onto the mattress. "Fuzzy…"

Natasha contemplated just pushing him and leaving, but she knew the risks about leaving a drunk individual alone. She pulled him back up into a seated position. "Come on, lift your arms." She ordered and proceeded to pull his top off and throw it carelessly to one side before pushing him back down. She then proceeded to remove his shoes, jeans and socks.

Once again she wanted to leave, but if anything happened with his children, he was literally useless right now- she decided to stay and make sure nothing bad happened. Otherwise she'd never be able to forgive herself.

* * *

 **Thank you for reading! ThisVioletofMine and I had a lot of fun writing this scene! Although, as she has never been drunk, I did have to ease her down :P**


	12. Waking up

**Author's note:**

 **Thank you to Tamara, Princess2016 and discordchick for reviewing!**

 **Shout out to my beta- ThisVioletofMine!**

* * *

Clint groaned and rolled over, his head pounding like Thor had decided to beat him repeatedly over the head with his huge-ass hammer. _What the hell happened last night_? Party… There had been a party… But why was he out partying on Coop's birthday? Wait… No, he'd never left the house. Natasha's gift… His eyes gradually fluttered open, the minimal sunlight in the room burning his corneas like he was looking directly at the sun itself. He moaned and carefully sat up to find he was safely in his bed. How had he gotten _there_? And why was he half-naked?

He carefully stood, waiting a second for everything to settle before stepping into the bathroom and then clumsily pulled on a shirt and some shorts before padding out into the painfully bright hallway. His ears were immediately assaulted by Lila's high-pitched voice, making him wince and clutch at his temple, squinting against the sunlight streaming through the glass patio doors. "What time 'sit?" He mumbled, making a beeline for the kitchen.

"Daddy! You'we awake!" Lila exclaimed with pure excitement. "Told ya he wewen't sick!"

"Why else would he sleep this late?" Cooper retorted instantly.

Natasha calmly sipped her drink before replying to Clint's original question. "Eleven thirty."

Clint rubbed the back of his head and looked around, the house was tidy- a lot tidier than it had been in weeks. "Why didn't you wake me?" He muttered.

"I need to head out- I have a meeting later today that I need to prepare for." Natasha said, standing up.

"Bye!" His children both chorused as they gave Natasha quick hugs. "See you soon!"

"Behave, you two." Natasha said before standing up.

Clint glanced over to make sure his children were alright, which they were, and then followed Natasha out. "What happened last night? I, uh…" He drifted off, mainly because he partially remembered talking about some things he shouldn't have.

"You got drunk." Natasha answered. "See you at work on Monday."

"Wait, okay, what happened?" Clint demanded, hurrying to keep up with her. "I got drunk, but _then_ what?" Oh, he hoped he hadn't done something embarrassing!

Natasha gave him a small wave as she slid onto her motorbike, slid on her helmet and zoomed off.

Clint glanced down at his half-naked state as he stood on the front porch, the wind biting at his skin. "Well, shit."

* * *

Natasha stared at the ceiling of her small room at S.H.I.E.L.D, contemplating everything that had happened the previous night. It was unsettling, seeing Clint in the condition he was last night. She never imagined that she'd see him so vulnerable, so… broken. When they had first met, he was so whole and put-together; he always seemed so confident. However, now he was visibly crumbling, no matter how much he tried to pretend that he had things under control. He didn't.

It was strange to think that the man, who had helped her so much to get her life together and be true to herself, was struggling. The only problem was that she didn't know how to help. And she didn't think going to and asking for Fitz's advice would suffice this time. The only person who she would trust the advice from was the person she wanted to help.

She sat up slowly, her lips pursed in thought, as she concluded that she was going to do whatever it took to help him. She had a debt to repay, and she would put aside any feelings she had in order to help him.

* * *

Clint carefully pulled the quinjet out of the hangar and into the air, shooting glances at the woman beside him every few minutes. Natasha had been acting… strangely, since the morning after Cooper's party. Looking at him funnily, skirting around conversations… Dear God, he was mortified. He had clearly done something strange and embarrassing in his state of inebriation that had been bad enough that _Natasha Romanoff_ was freaked out by it. _Did I talk about the Christmas '09 Debacle? Did I spill any embarrassing secrets? Did I… Did I try to have sex with her? She's offered it before… Did we actually…_ He was giving himself ulcers from the stress of wondering what on earth had happened.

"Clint, I need your advice about something." Natasha stated randomly, finally looking at him.

Although he was startled from his reverie, his training allowed him to hide the tiny jump her sudden speaking had elicited. "Um, yeah? What about?" He asked as casually as humanly possible.

"A friend of mine is having a difficult time right now, and I'm not sure how to help them." She stated, not going into any more details, but was clearly waiting for him to respond.

"Wait, since when do you have friends other than me?" He infused a little mock hurt into his voice to make it seem more teasing than genuinely curious.

Natasha glared at him slightly. "I have friends; I've been talking to people, such as…. Agent Fitz, Izzy, Agent May... and I converse with Coulson about non-mission related topics from time to time." She defended. "Advice."

"Oh. Uh… Well, what's the cause of the difficulty? Work?" He asked, confused.

"Death."

Clint's brows furrowed. "Someone died? I didn't hear about any agents with family deaths."

Natasha frowned. "Well, I did. How do I help them?"

Clint didn't like how vague she was being. "Well, who is it? We could have a grief counsellor visit with them."

"I'm not asking how S.H.I.E.L.D could help them, Clint." Natasha pointed out. "Besides, I'm not sure they would be susceptible to a counsellor." She added.

He groaned internally, wondering who the hell she was suddenly so concerned about. "Is she even an agent?" He hoped it was a girl, because if Natasha was bonding with another man at the same time that she was slightly pulling away from Clint, well… He wasn't really sure how he _felt_ about it. But he didn't like it.

Natasha groaned, clearly frustrated. "Does that even matter?"

"Uh, _yeah_! A S.H.I.E.L.D agent's emotional responses are completely different to those of a normal civilian. We've all been through intensive training." That was mostly true, but it wasn't his _actual_ reasoning for wanting to know- not that Natasha needed to know that.

If possible, her glare intensified. "Fine, this person _is_ an agent. Are you going to give me some damn advice now?"

Maybe he could glean some more information out of her first. "Well, it also depends on how old he or she is. Younger could mean less emotional stability, older could be too hardened by grief…" He drawled, though he kept his tone as though he was trying to be as well-informed as possible to give valuable advice.

"Why would any of this crap change what _I_ do to help?" She demanded.

"Do you want my advice or not?"

Natasha huffed. "He's an over-emotional, closed-off little shit. Enough information?"

 _Man, this guy sounds like a total jackass. Who could she be talking about?_ "Hang on- what was his relationship with the deceased?"

"We're here." Natasha announced, unstrapping herself and grabbing her gun.

Sighing, Clint landed the plane, stood as well and got ready.

* * *

Clint fired off arrow after arrow, aim staying true every time, as usual. Ten men collapsed to the floor, clutching at their pierced eyes and chests. Able to take a quick breath between goons, Clint searched out Natasha, finding her bludgeoning some poor fool to death with one of their own big-ass guns. After he'd dispatched his last opponent, he went over to her, ignoring the blood splatter all over her face. "Your gun is right there, you know." He said, gesturing to her thigh holster.

"I didn't need it." Natasha muttered, dropping the other man's gun onto the floor. "Have you got the intel yet?" She questioned impatiently.

He checked the screen on his wristband, which told him that eighty-seven percent of the data had been downloaded. "Almost. Just a minute more."

"Fine, I'll go beat some more guys up." Natasha decided, walking off.

 _Well someone's pissy._

* * *

As Clint sat back at the controls of the quinjet and prepped for take-off, he noticed right away that Natasha was giving him the stink-eye from her seat beside him. He'd hoped that she would take all of her frustration out on the multiple goons they'd fought, but apparently that fire was still burning strong.

"Are you going to give me some damn advice now? Or do I need to shove an arrow up your arse?" Natasha asked him straightforwardly.

He rolled his eyes. "What was his relation to the person who died?" He repeated from earlier.

"Just give me some fucking advice, Clint!"

"Alright, alright, yeesh. Just… remind him that you're there for him when he needs you… And that what he's doing in his job is making a difference in the lives of others…" Damn, Clint had never been the best at giving advice.

"Really? _That_ 's your advice? That's the most generic crap advice I've ever been given- and I was given advice on the best way to shave a rat." Natasha replied, frustrated. "What were all of those questions for?"

Clint kept his eyes locked on the skyline. "I'm like an online personality quiz- you know, like 'Which Blueberry Dessert Would You Be?' and that crap? You put in lots of info to get generic answers."

"It wasn't even worth my effort." Natasha muttered.

"I guess some people are just not worth the effort. Like this guy you're trying to help- sounds like a total jackass, and is definitely not worth your attention." Clint replied.

Natasha nodded. "I agree with you there- he _is_ an annoying jackass."

Clint was relieved that there apparently wasn't anything special going on between Natasha and her mystery friend. "So just leave him be, then. He's not worth your time."

"Alright, alright. But I might as well take your advice first." She paused. "Clint, I'll always be here for you, and your job makes a difference." She said, super sarcastically.

Clint paused, doing a double-take as he slowly made the connection. Then he shot her a sizzling glare. "I fucking _hate_ you."

"Right back at you, jackass."

* * *

 **Thank you for reading!**

 **If you have enough time, I'd love to have your thoughts!**


	13. Bobbi's Advice

**Author's Note:**

 **Hello! For the next month, there will be sluggish updates, because in the next month, as in totals, there's 16 days where me and ThisVioletofMine will be on holiday (At separate times) which impacts our writing and updating!**

 **Anyway, thank you to the reviewers of the previous chapter: discordchick; Tamara; ScarlettBarton; Princess2016.**

* * *

"What do you mean you don't remember what happened?" Bobbi questioned, looking at him like he was crazy from the other side of the office.

Clint groaned; maybe confiding in and asking for advice from Bobbi wasn't the best idea right now, especially as she had just gotten back from a long undercover mission. "I remember parts of the night… but I drank a lot more than I should have and… what I remember is... hazy."

Bobbi trained her eyes on him. "What exactly _do_ you remember?"

Clint rubbed the back of his head as he completely dismissed the mission debrief they were _supposed_ to be discussing. "After you left, we spoke casually… about what I did while she was away. And she told me about a few books she had read- in detail." He unfortunately remembered her detailed summaries of all three books. "We spoke about the party… and that's when it starts getting hazy. There was talk about the parents and children who came, and… pregnancies... and Canada." He sheepishly looked away. "And I vividly remember discussing her breasts."

"Excuse me?"

"Yeah. I'm pretty sure I had a whole conversation about what I thought of her breasts. And other things which I'm not sure if I dreamt or not." He admitted.

Bobbi sighed. "You slept with her." She stated.

"What? No… I don't know." Clint sighed, too, running a hand over his face. "She was still there in the morning, and as soon as I woke up, she left!"

"Have you asked her what happened?" Bobbi asked him, and her expression turned into a glare. "It's been three weeks since Cooper's party and you haven't asked her if you slept together? Haven't you had missions with her since then?"

He nodded. "Well, yeah… But asking her during a mission would just be… weird." He explained poorly.

She shook her head at him in dismay. "You have not changed one bit from when we dated. Just ask her- what's the worst that can happen?"

Just the thought of every possible reaction from Natasha was foreboding. "Well, for starters, she could get pissed off and castrate me."

Bobbi chuckled, picking up one of his files and flicking through it. "Well, how would you react if you two _had_ slept together?"

Clint made a horrified face. "Probably I'd be ashamed and then curious as to how _that_ went…" He said thoughtfully, wondering what sleeping with Natasha would be like.

"At the end of the day, it's up to you. I think she'd tell you if you two had slept together, so don't sweat it. Unless she didn't like it, and that's why she hasn't told you." Bobbi teased.

Clint was indignant. "If I was so terrible in bed, why did Laura sleep with me enough to have two children?" He demanded. He felt the burning need to defend his masculinity.

"You're not the _best_ in bed, Clint. Trust me." Bobbi replied from experience. "And Natasha has been with a lot more men than Laura had been with- maybe she just has different preferences."

"Are you kidding? Laura was _hot_! She had plenty of boyfriends before she met me!" Even though that thought brought up some rather jealous feelings, his reputation was at stake, dammit!

"Is that any way to talk about your wife? Tut, tut." Bobbi teased, standing up. "If we're not going to talk about my debriefing, I'm heading to bed- you should grow some balls and talk to Natasha."

Grow some- he growled. "I don't need to grow anything! I'll go ask her right now!" He retorted, standing up with fiery passion. "And if we did, I will _prove_ that I was awesome!"

"Go on, then! Go ask her!" Bobbi prodded, opening the door for him.

Clint stormed out, determination in his gait. "I will!" Even though his tone was argumentative, he knew he was ridiculously agreeing with her.

* * *

Clint marched all the way to Natasha's room before his voice of reason could talk him out of it. He _needed_ to know this, and he needed to know it now. He pounded a fist on the door. "Nat!"

The door opened to reveal Nat standing there, obviously not amused with him pounding on her door. "What? I could have been asleep." She said, even though it was the middle of the day.

"Yeah, _could_ have. But you're not. Did we sleep together?" Clint blurted.

"Yes."

"I knew it!" Hartley walked out of the bathroom. "Everybody knows you two are hooking up."

"We didn't have _sex,_ Izzy!" Natasha emphasised. "We _slept_ in the same bed at the same time. But we did _not_ have sex; so stop telling people that."

Clint sagged in semi-relief before a thought occurred to him. "Wait, why did you sound so offended at the prospect of sleeping with me? Am I really _that_ bad?" What was with everyone picking on his sexual prowess?

Natasha and Izzy both raised their eyebrows at him. "I wouldn't know, the one time I did offer to have sex, you turned me down." She pointed out before turning to Hartley. "Shut it."

Izzy rolled her eyes, and amused expression on her face as she sat on the ex-assassin's bed. "I wasn't going to say anything."

"Okay, so just to clear things up: we did _not_ , in any way, shape or form, have sexual relations, consensual or nonconsensual, on the night of the party?" Clint asked.

"No." She paused. "Should I be offended that you are making a pretty big deal of this- especially as it's been _three_ weeks?"

"Yup." Izzy inputted. "Slam the door in his face."

"How about we _not_ slam things into faces." Clint inputted, shooting Izzy a glare. "I don't mean to offend you." He said to Nat. "Just checking, is all."

She placed one hand on the door. "Well, for future reference, there will _never_ come an instance where you'll need to 'just check', because I will _never_ sleep with you in _any_ way, shape or form- ever. Goodbye." She closed door, not exactly slamming it, but it got her point through.

Clint didn't know how to leave with his dignity still intact, so he just settled for calling "Your loss!" through the door.

* * *

Natasha swore as she pressed herself against the wall, holding a hand to her arm. She looked down and was relieved at the lack of crimson blood- but now she was wondering why the hell it hurt so much. "Hawk, I've got the USB- let's get out of here."

"I'm comin', I'm comin'." Clint replied through the comms. "Just let me deal with this… Dude, stay down already!"

She sighed and headed for the evac point, turning to look at her still painful arm. Her eyes widened as she saw her skin slowly turning yellow. "What the fuck!" She muttered.

"What's wrong?" Clint asked, the sounds of arrows being fired becoming more frequent.

"I'm…" Natasha stopped, trying to gouge the bullet, which must have been the cause, out of her arm. "Shit. It's stuck."

"What's stuck?" He demanded, sounding more concerned. "Do I need to intervene?"

Natasha grunted. "My skin is literally peeling from my arm; YES, YOU NEED TO INTERVENE!"

"Eugh. Please tell me you're joking." He practically begged in her ear. "I totally do _not_ want to see that."

" _Clint!"_ Natasha growled, pulling out one of her knives. She took a second to compose herself before cutting into the seemingly rotting skin- and was relieved when blood began gushing out- and dug the bullet out of her arm, letting it drop to the floor.

"Alright, coming." Clint replied, and seconds later the door to the room she was in burst open and he was rushing over to her. As soon as he caught a glimpse of her arm, however, he averted his eyes for a moment. "Oh God, Nat! What the hell did you _do_?"

Natasha looked at him, mostly calmly for a few moments. "I had to get it out- it was _killing_ me." Okay, for the first time in her life, even she knew she was being over-dramatic; there was no concrete proof that the bullet was going to kill her, although she was sure it would have. "It was poisoned." She added, that was a deduced possibility.

"No shit." Clint snapped, though she suspected the anger wasn't directed at her. "Come on, let's get outta here. Can you stand?" He offered her his arm to help her up.

She grabbed his arm and pulled herself up, then held onto her still bleeding wound. "Let's go." She urged, just wanting to get out of here as quickly as humanly possible. She headed for the door, kicking it open.

Clint began shooting down the remaining enemies in their path while she led the way down the hall to the exit. "Are you sure you're okay to walk? I can carry you and still fire my arrows like a badass, if need be." Clint offered.

"Just keep running, hot-shot." Natasha replied. Moments later they got into the safety of the quinjet and closed the ramp. "Fly." She told him, pointing to the cockpit.

"Will do." Clint said succinctly, prepping the quinjet for flight before taking off and setting the controls to autopilot.

* * *

Clint eyed Natasha worriedly as he crouched in front of her, applying the salve to her skin- it appeared to be clearing up, now that the source of the toxin was gone. "Does it still hurt? One to ten?" He asked. They were still on the quinjet, unfortunately, so they had no access to a real doctor.

"Uh… три." Natasha replied, falling back to her native tongue.

Clint nodded. "That's not too bad- three, right? Yeah, three. Okay… Are you feeling any other effects? Dizziness? Fatigue? Explosive diarrhea?"

"My… bowels are fine. But… dizziness, yes," Natasha replied softly, her head tilting forward slightly. She poked his arm. "You're bleeding too."

"Ouch! Dammit, don't poke me where I'm injuredClint focused his gaze intently on the light-yellow tint to her skin as he carefully wrapped a bandage around her forearm. "Maybe you should lie down. Before you fall down, that is."

Natasha rested her free hand on his shoulder, looking him in the eye with a somewhat unfocused expression. "I lied to you."

"Mm-hmm. About what?" Clint asked distractedly as he unwound part of the bandage to rewrap it more tightly.

"I'd sleep with you, if you wanted." She replied, resting her head against her hand, which was still on his shoulder.

"Uh-huh-" Clint cut off, staring at her. "Wait, what? Since when?"

She yawned softly. "Since always."

Clint continued to stare at her, realisation dawning on him- she'd wanted to sleep with him since they first met. She'd always held feelings for him. She… wanted more out of their relationship than what they currently had. That was why she'd been pulling away.

Clint was about to say something in response, but he noticed that she'd fallen asleep. Sighing, he laid her down and trudged back over to the cockpit, where he took control of the quinjet and steered them home.

* * *

 **Thank you for reading! :D**


	14. I hate hospitals'

**Author's Note:**

 **Salutes. Hello! Fourteen chapters? Wow. I started writing this story at the same time as 'The Consequences of Undercover' and this has double the chapters!**

 **Thank you to discordchick, Tamara and Princess2016 for reviewing the previous chapter! It means a lot to me!**

* * *

Clint gazed over to the unconscious figure on the bed beside his, letting out a sigh. As soon as he'd landed the quinjet at the base, they'd both been rushed to the medical wing to have their respective injuries tended to- Natasha brought there on a stretcher, seeing as she was still dead to the world. His arm was bandaged up, as was hers, and the strange yellowish tint to her skin had been flushed away after she was hooked up to some fluids and given a counter for the toxin.

"You sure she'll be waking up soon?" He asked one of the nurses as she adjusted Natasha's pillows. The woman, Amy, smiled kindly and nodded.

"Yep! Vitals are back up and the doctors think she'll be conscious by sundown, if not by dinner." She said before walking off to tend to other duties. Clint scrubbed a hand over his face. He was sore from sitting at an angle to be able to watch Natasha, but he didn't plan on moving anytime soon. He wanted to be there the moment she woke up.

His thoughts rushed back to her drugged admission on the quinjet. She'd… always had feelings for him? And he'd never noticed? Sure, he'd been married for the duration of their years as partners, but he was supposed to be a trained observer! How had he missed something so huge?

One of the most conflicting thoughts in his head was the one stating that he totally reciprocated those feelings.

Her heartbeat increased by two beats per minute before her eyes fluttered. "I hate hospitals," she muttered.

Clint was instantly on his feet, ignoring the twinge in his arm and the protest of his aching muscles, and at her side in seconds. "Nat? You with me?" He asked gently, knowing that waking up after being drugged almost always left you with a huge headache.

She pushed herself up into a seated position, grunting. "Yeah." She replied, looking around hazily.

Clint put a hand on her shoulder to prevent her from trying to get out of the bed, as she had done many times before upon waking in the medical wing. "Do you remember anything past getting hit?" He asked.

"Yes." She replied, looking at him, it almost a glare. "You kept offering to carry me- you know I hate that."

He couldn't help but chuckle at that. "Well excuse _me_ for trying to help!"

She swung her legs off the bed but didn't make an attempt to get up. "I didn't need your help. Besides, you were too slow to help get the poisonous bullet out of my arm- I had to do that myself."

"I was bogged down by, like, _fifty_ dudes! I was hurrying as much as I could!" Clint defended, though indignance was far from his mind in his utter relief that she was okay.

"You were still too slow." Natasha muttered. "What happened? Please don't tell me I passed out."

"I'd tell you that you stayed valiantly alert and eloquent, but I'd be lying." Clint admitted with a smile. "But you at least made it to the quinjet first so I didn't end up actually having to carry you."

Natasha frowned. "Let's make a deal- if you don't tell anybody what happened, I won't tell everybody what you did when you were drunk." She supplied, though it sounded quite like a threat..

Clint made a horrified face. "You wouldn't! Besides, how are you so sure that what you said while you were drugged wasn't as embarrassing as me drunk?" He challenged.

She smirked weakly at him. "I don't care what people think of me; besides, I doubt you want your children knowing what you did and said."

"You leave my precious babies out of this!" Clint exclaimed dramatically. It was really nice to banter with Natasha again- it'd been awhile since they'd been so casual around each other. "Aren't you even going to ask what you said? Aren't you dying of curiosity?"

"Are you going to ask me what _you_ said?" She countered without hesitation.

"I… ah, I remember the general gist of what I said… Not too happy about it…" Clint admitted. "But sure, surprise me- then I'll tell you the juicy secrets you spilled." He offered, settling on the edge of the bed beside her.

Natasha pushed herself back and leant against the backboard. "Well, I know every person you've slept with. Although, the thing that surprised me the most was Bobbi and you being engaged before you broke up. Well… before she broke up with you. And… well, you blabbered on for a really long time before actually falling asleep." She listed.

Clint couldn't help but wince- why did he have to be so damn chatty when he was drunk? "Geez. I suppose, with how generous I was being, I gave you my social security number too, right?" He asked sarcastically, secretly hoping he hadn't. That was one thing he didn't need her knowing, however close they might be.

"Who's to say I didn't already know that?" She asked him with a slight smirk as she pulled the drip from her arm.

He almost made a move to stop her before realising all attempts were futile. "Anyway, I suppose it's my turn to share." Suddenly he felt very awkward about speaking of what words were exchanged. Would Natasha murder him? "Well… you sort of admitted…" He trailed off, not sure how to break this to her.

"I don't have all day. Which dysfunctional childhood memory did I recount to you?" She questioned.

"No memories, um…" Clint sucked in a breath. "You said that… you've always had feelings for me. Well, not in such classy terms… you admitted to wanting to sleep with me." He said quickly, making sure all sharp objects were out of her reach.

Natasha stared at him calmly before casually responding, "That's all? I thought you already knew I'd sleep with you- sex or otherwise." She slid out of bed, taking her time to make sure she wouldn't fall over. "Half the agents here would willingly sleep with you, too- do you need a verbal account from all of them?"

Clint blinked. "Wait, what?" He spluttered, unsure of what to say in response. He'd been sure she would take this more seriously- maybe she did, and was just playing it off?

She looked at him. "Don't worry, I've never intended to act on it- you have a family." She sighed. "Sorry."

Well now he was in a bit of a pickle. "Well… I have _kids_ … I don't have a _complete_ family anymore." He sighed. "You don't have to apologise." He added, just to be clear.

"I do. I shouldn't have made things complicated for you." Natasha replied as she stepped. "Walk me to my room." She ordered lightly- as if helping somebody break out of the hospital was less of a big deal than admitting one's feelings.

"You didn't make it complicated," Clint objected as he ducked under her arm, pulling it over his shoulder, and helped her to the door, one hand around her waist. "I made things complicated for myself."

Natasha leant against him and then proceeded to pull him towards the exit. "How did _you_ make it complicated?" She questioned.

"Like you said- you didn't act on anything, didn't give any hints that you were attracted to me. So any perceived difficulty was all on my part." Clint replied, kicking the door open since one of his arms was out of commission for a while and the other was around his partner.

"It's not like that. You're a good person- I wouldn't want to taint you by acting on anything." Natasha replied. "Besides, it was obvious that you didn't feel anything for me- therefore, it was all on me."

Clint groaned. "Would you cut it out with the 'tainting'? You're an awesome person. Stop with the 'I can't have any fun for fear of tainting this and that with my taintiness and my contagious taintitis'."

Natasha chuckled. "I do _not_ sound like that. Besides, you weren't and you're not interested- are you? So why are we still discussing it?"

Clint almost choked on his immediate response. "I am." Because of how suddenly it blurted from him and his attempt to clamp down on it halfway through, it came out sounding like some sort of cough-slash-squeak that just made things even more awkward.

Natasha practically froze beside him. "I think I can get to my room from here without your help." She stated, stepping away from him pretty quickly.

Something deep in his gut was telling him _don't let her get away!_ in the least creepy, non-predatory way possible. He lurched forward and gently caught her wrist. "Nat, wait." He insisted, for the first time in a long time letting his desperation into his voice.

She pulled her wrist weakly, without actually pulling away, and turned back to him. Before he could really comprehend her glare, she had stepped closer and pulled him into a kiss.

Clint instantly responded in kind, pulling her closer and kissing back, enjoying every second of it.

Somebody cleared their throat beside them and she pulled away from him first. "Agents Romanoff and Barton- neither of you are cleared to leave your respective hospital rooms." Fury informed them casually.

"Nobody told me that." Natasha replied coolly.

"We share a hospital room, actually." Clint pointed out, but was ignored.

"Well, Romanoff, you're being told now- I suggest you heed it." Fury said sternly.

Natasha looked at her bare wrist dramatically. "Sorry, Fury, I'm late for a meeting. But I'll be sure to check in with the hospital later." She turned and strode off, seemingly completely balanced as she walked off and around the corner.

Fury and Clint shared a glance. Clint shrugged. "You heard the woman- we've got important spy business to attend to. Rain check?" He asked cheekily as he began to follow Natasha.

Fury raised a brow. "Does this 'important spy business' involve liplocking with your partner?" He asked knowingly.

Clint rounded the corner. "What? I can't hear you!" He called back before making a mad dash in a random direction.

* * *

Natasha was almost laughing when she got to her room, and picked up a bottle of water, taking a standard vitamin tablet like she did after most missions, especially ones where she hadn't had chance to eat properly. And even though this had been a short mission, she had lost a lot of blood… and had her skin changed colour… so she decided it was worth it. She had barely swallowed it when Clint walked in, laughing.

Her lips tugged upwards at his laughter; they both knew that running away and disobeying direct orders from the head of S.H.I.E.L.D would have consequences, but they didn't care right now.

He stepped forward and pulled her into a kiss, resuming where they had left off. This time, Natasha had no intention of pulling away first, regardless of if anybody interrupted them or not. Her fingers fumbled for a second on the buttons of his shirt before changing tactic and pulling off his belt. It wasn't long before he removed his own- and her- top, himself.

* * *

 **Thank you for reading! I'd appreciate a review if you have time! Let me know what you think :)**


	15. Chapter 15

**Hello!**

* * *

Clint sighed and rolled over, pulling the blankets up to his chin- but he frowned when the action was met with resistance. He blinked his eyes several times to free them from the last dredges of sleep, then rolled back over to see what was causing the indentation in the mattress he'd just started noticing. Any tiredness still left in his brain immediately vacated at the sight of Natasha, sound asleep, beside him. _What?_ He thought, slightly confused. Then he realised that he was naked. And the gaps in his memory filled themselves in. _Oh, yeah_.

"You move _so_ much." Natasha complained, suddenly wide awake, pulling the covers closer to herself without any regard for him.

"Well _excuse_ me." Clint retorted sarcastically, though he was chuckling. "Did I interrupt your sleep, princess?" He had to make a tough decision: get up and face the day or stay in bed and risk eventually feeling awkward. One experimental venture out from under the blanket by his foot was enough to make the decision for him- it was _freezing_ outside of the blanket! He nestled into as much of the blanket as he could wrestle from Natasha and let out a content sigh.

Natasha mimicked his exhale and rolled onto her back. "I didn't expect you to actually stay this long." She admitted.

Clint rolled his eyes. "Do I really seem like that much of a one-night stand kind of guy? I don't really do… _this_ kind of thing without being willing to commit." He confessed. He wasn't sure why he was being so open about that, but it was probably a good reassurance for her, so what was the harm?

"I know that much about you," Natasha pointed out as she pushed herself up into a seated position and faced him. "But what about Lila and Cooper- who's looking after them?"

"This new babysitter I hired- she's basically a live-in, really, since Patty had to retire. Erin. She knows that my job keeps me overnight sometimes, so it's no big deal." Clint answered, stretching his legs. There was something freeing about not wearing pants.

She nodded. "You're living with another woman?"

He laughed and crossed his arms under his head. "Sure am. Are you _jealous_?"

"No." Natasha replied, her voice coming out defensive and disgusted at the accusation. "You never mentioned that,; it almost seems like you were keeping it a secret- which is nothing new when it comes to you."

Clint let out a sigh and decided that it was best to make amends before a _real_ fight became of this. "Alright, I'm sorry. I forgot to tell you, that's all. I only just hired her last week."

She shrugged. "You have no obligation to tell me anything, Clint." Her eyes glanced around her room, but it was unclear what she was looking for.

"No, it's nothing like that, Nat. We're… well, I assume we're closer now. We need to tell each other things, stay in healthy communication. Therefore it was my bad." Clint corrected her.

Natasha looked back at him. "Why? Because we had sex?" She asked, furrowing her eyebrows at him. "Why should sex change our dynamics?"

Clint stared at her. "Well, that means we're officially _more_ than friends, for starters! I'm pretty sure sex is the most intimate you could possibly be with someone, so yeah, I think something's changed."

"I believe that being connected to somebody on an emotional level is more important than any physical activity- there's something pure and revealing about letting down your defences. A lot more scary and revealing than simply removing one's clothing." Natasha commented, sliding out of bed and crossing the room. She opened a drawer and slipped on a t-shirt and some clean underwear before walking back to the bed.

He smirked. "Way to make it philosophical, Nat." He teased lightly, pulling on his own clothes.

Natasha crossed her legs on the bed as she faced him, her head tilted to the side. She looked indecisive for a few moments. "What do we do now?"

The question clearly meant more than its face value: not just 'what are we gonna do right now?' but also 'how will we deal with this throughout the upcoming days, months, years?'. He rubbed at the back of his neck, conflicted. "Well, we could pretend this didn't happen, if you want it to be that way." He offered, though he hoped that wasn't what she desired. "Or… we could make something of this."

"There're only two options?" Natasha asked thoughtfully, biting her lip gently.

"Well, not exactly… Those are just the most doable-slash-agreeable ones. What did you have in mind?" He inquired curiously, pulling on his stubborn left sock.

Natasha watched him struggle with his sock. "I… Can you sit down? Shouldn't this be a serious grown-up conversation and not me wondering if you're going to fall over or not?"

Clint laughed- he was glad that some things would never change about their relationship, sex or no sex. "Just gimme a sec… there. Take that, you bastard!" He cursed the offending article of clothing before adopting an adultlike posture. "Anyway, what were you gonna say?"

"Just that there is a lot to consider- more than you just and me." Natasha informed him. "For example, we'll need to consider our working relations, S.H.I.E.L.D protocols, your children and… if things don't work, if we decided to give it a try- how that would affect everything."

He nodded pensively. "True… I think S.H.I.E.L.D wouldn't be too much of an issue, honestly. Even if it's against protocols, when have we been known to follow protocol to begin with? And Cooper and Lila love you, also, and so I don't think they'd be against you being a bigger part of our lives."

"If we don't work out… then Lila and Cooper would be greatly affected. So, if we did try things out, I don't think they should know about it." Natasha suggested.

Clint didn't particularly like the idea of hiding something so huge from his children. He always tried to be as honest as he could with them. But she was right. A breakup would only make things harder for the kids. He finally nodded in agreement. "Alright, it would be on the down-low."

She shook her head. "No, it would be completely _confidential_. That means no telling _anybody_."

He sighed. "Geez, yeah, okay!" He surrendered. "Not even my goldfish will know."

"No need to be sarcastic." Natasha said as she crossed her arms, obviously not amused.

"Sorry. It's my natural defense mechanism toward seriousness." Clint replied with a shrug.

"Maybe this was a bad idea, then." Natasha said, getting up from the bed and pulling on some jogging bottoms. "I'm not sure I even want to." She added.

Clint was suddenly very worried. "Wait, hang on- what? What was all that discussion about, then? This isn't something we can half-ass, you know."

She rolled her eyes as she turned back to face him. "Yeah, I know we can't just half-assedly go into a relationship- that's why I'm saying it's probably best if we don't even try. It's only going to end badly."

He frowned. "What kind of attitude is that? Since when have we ever been known to quit, huh?" He demanded. "I'm all for trying it out- if it doesn't work, well, what will be will be."

"How unpredictable." She muttered disdainfully. "Why complicate things?"

"Because it's worth it." Clint replied immediately.

Natasha looked at him, conflicted, for a few long moments. "Then we'll give it a go. But we still need to discuss a lot of things about the relationship. I don't want us going into it expecting different things. We have to be on the same page."

He nodded- he could always trust Natasha to be the mature one and think up the plans and the important items to note. "That would be smart, yes. Are there any questions you had for me?" It was probably best to get everything up in the air and make sure there were no skeletons left in the closet for future accidental discovery- that could end badly.

"How regular would you be requesting sex?" She asked, nowhere near wishy-washy.

Well… that was rather blunt. "Uh… only however often you're comfortable with." He knew she'd been in several prior relationships that had turned out to only be for her body- she was an extremely attractive woman, after all, and some men couldn't see past their mindless lust for her to attempt bonding with the beautiful personality beneath the figure most women would envy. He didn't want to be like those pigs- she deserved more than that.

"What if I wanted to do it more than you?"

He smirked. "I doubt that's possible."

She nodded for a second. "Okay. Should we agree on four times a week with the exception of special occasions, where it'll obviously be more, then?" She suggested.

Slightly flabbergasted, Clint just nodded dumbly. He'd never encountered a woman with a sex schedule before. "Yeah, sure."

Natasha nodded. "I've seen in movies that people have 'date nights' either every week or month. I'm thinking monthly, as they seem boring."

He laughed. "Fair enough- yeah, date nights are a bit too 'apple pie' sometimes… And on those rare occasions, what did you want to do?"

"Well, on special occasions, Alexi and I used to cook together- one of us would be in charge of dinner and the other of dessert. We could do something like that." Natasha suggested.

"Wait, Alexi? You've never mentioned any boyfriends besides Sergei, Kaleb and those four guys in a row who turned out to be either pedophiles or other sex offenders." Clint pointed out, confused.

Natasha paused. "Alexi wasn't a boyfriend or anything to do with the Red Room- I didn't think I had to tell you about him." Another pause. "Alexi was my husband."

If Clint had been drinking something, he would have spit it out. As it was, he almost choked on his own spit. "H-husband? You were _married_?"

She nodded, looking at him was careful eyes. "Yes." She confirmed, but otherwise remained completely still and silent.

He knew instantly that it was a touchy subject and forced himself to calm down- acting shocked and disbelieving was counterproductive when she was obviously being conscientious about how he would react. "Oh… What happened to him?" He asked gently, hoping his tone implied that she didn't have to answer if she didn't feel comfortable with it.

"He died." Another short, clipped answer.

Clint had kind of started to suspect as much. "I'm sorry." He said simply, fiddling with his fingers idly.

She sat their silently for a few minutes, neither of them talking. "So, is that a no to cooking together? We could always go to zumba instead- I hear that's 'fun'."

He sighed and tried to resurrect his rather optimistic attitude. "Isn't that for fitness-obsessed mothers with lots of time on their hands?" He asked, chuckling. "We could ride go-karts… Coop loves riding those. They're like miniature racecars."

"Why don't we just ride actual racecars or monster trucks? They would be more age appropriate. Of course, unless your kids were coming- but that wouldn't be on a special 'couple time' occasion." Natasha pointed out. "Maybe we should talk about this later. I guess you need some time to process the fact that I had been married before- just like I needed when you sprung your dead wife on me."

That felt slightly like it was intended to offend him, or at least slightly hurt his feelings, but he decided to just let it slide. "I suppose… let's just make sure we don't conveniently forget to discuss." He added.

She nodded. "When you're over the fact that I had a life once, let me know. Until then, though, we're just friends and partners. After all, we need to discuss this fully before we venture into a relationship."

Okay, that definitely had some barbs. Still, he didn't respond to that. "Alright. Could we talk in, say… a week?"

"Sure." Natasha replied, sliding off her bed and walking into her bathroom. She returned less than thirty seconds later in a jogging outfit. "I'm going out for a run. Lock the room when you leave." She said before grabbing her key and leaving.

Sighing, Clint stood and began to gather his things.

* * *

 **Thanks for reading!**

 **Huge thank you to the three reviews: discordchick, Tamara, Princess2016.**

 **For those who read this and other stories - I am heading for holiday in a few hours and probably won't be able to post until I get back. So that's six days from today!**


	16. Rules

**Author's Note:**

 **Hello! Sorry it's been a while, holiday.**

 **Anyway, let's continue!**

 **Quick and very grateful thank you to** **Guest; discordchick; Princess2016 for reviewing!**

 **Guest - hmm, very interesting questions and suggestions. Thank you for reviewing!**

* * *

Clint was unusually slow as he made the short trek to Natasha's room exactly one week later. He had a lot weighing on his mind. Natasha had been married- was, literally, a widow. She hadn't thought it important enough to tell him about said dead husband until after they had slept together. Part of him was slightly enraged and hurt by her lack of confidence in his ability to accept things like that, while another part of him was just glad that she was finally opening up about it to him. He'd thought on it long and hard the past week, and was slightly embarrassed to say that it had taken a vast majority of that time for him to make peace with the fact that Natasha had been previously married to someone she genuinely loved. Now he felt he was ready to finally talk about it with her.

"Nat?" He called, knocking loudly on her door.

The door opened almost instantly. "Hey." She greeted shortly.

"Hey." He replied, trying to not to convey how uncomfortable this was. "Ready to talk?"

She extended her arm, opening the door further, and stepped out the way. "You don't look ready to talk." She commented.

"I'm ready as I'll ever be. I've been thinking on this for a long time." He answered, walking into the room.

Natasha closed the door after him and leant against him, looking at him. "And what have you come up with?" She asked, her eyes boring into his, remaining blank- she was blocking everything out.

He let out a breath. "What happened in your past- the people you loved then- doesn't affect me, and it's not my business. I'm fine with it." He declared, offering a small smile.

"I know." She responded, sighing slightly. "I didn't realise that I was supposed to tell you about every single aspect of my life when you are not required to. Surely it should be the same rules for both of us."

Clint cocked his head. "What? What haven't I told you?"

Natasha raised an eyebrow at him. "If I remember correctly, you didn't tell me that _you_ were married for years, nor that you had children. How is me not telling you about a _past_ relationship any different?"

He raised his hands in surrender. "Alright, alright, calm down. I wanted to tell you for a long time, but Laura didn't want me sharing it with anybody with affiliations to S.H.I.E.L.D." He replied.

"Laura doesn't hold any bonds to our relationship." Natasha stated strongly. "Besides, did you ever think that I didn't want anybody from S.H.I.E.L.D. knowing about Alexi?"

He frowned. "Hey, now. You're the one that first brought him up- I was just curious, so it's not like I bludgeoned it out of you! You could have _not_ told me if you didn't _want_ to!"

"I did want to tell you, because you're not _just S.H.I.E.L.D._ anymore, but I didn't know how you're supposed to mention something like that. And you obviously hate giving advice, so I couldn't even ask you." Natasha snapped. "I didn't expect you to take it the way you did, though!"

"I _just said_ I was accepting it! What more do you want?" Clint snapped right back.

She scoffed. "Somebody who doesn't take a _week_ to get over the fact that a relationship which ended _five_ years ago and to know that it isn't a damn threat!"

He spluttered indignantly. "You were the one to insist that I take time to think about it! We agreed on a week! You can't hold that against me!"

Natasha opened her door. "Well, a week was too long."

Clint almost couldn't believe it- was she kicking him out? "Aren't we supposed to be talking things out like adults? Wasn't that the main purpose of us meeting?"

"You came in here with an attitude. If you actually wanted to 'make things work', you wouldn't have taken the whole week to think." Natasha stated, a lot calmer than she had been two seconds ago.

"I didn't 'take the whole week to think'! We agreed to meet and discuss after one week. I'd finished thinking days ago, but we had agreed to meet _now!_ What's with you today?"

"Nothing! What's wrong with you?" She retorted, her tone back to being harsh as she pushed- or more like slammed- her door shut.

Clint growled from his place on the bed. "I came here to maturely discuss our… relationship. You've been snapping at me from the moment you answered the door. What's wrong?" He said as calmly as his frayed nerves would allow.

"I said nothing is wrong." She reiterated. "Apart from that that _actually_ took a week." She shook her head and took a long breath. "It shouldn't have taken you more than merely a few hours to decide if you wanted to give this a try or not after finding out that I was married- and then it shouldn't have taken you more than a day from deciding to tell me. Instead, you leave me hanging for a week with no explanation or even communication. If that is what you do after a disagreement…" She drifted off, not finishing her sentence.

"Nat…" Clint sighed. "It took me so long because, yes, I was conflicted. When you talked about Alexi, you sounded like you truly loved him. I just… I wasn't sure if I wanted to risk not meeting your expectations after having someone like him to love you." He admitted. "But-"

"And you think that I'm not terrified that I won't live up to _Laura's_ legacy? The woman who, amongst other things, gave you two children? Which I can _never_ do?" She questioned right back.

Clint felt himself pale slightly. "Nat, I'm not after you because I want more children." He enunciated. "I don't care that you can't. That doesn't matter to me."

"Well, it matters to me." Natasha commented. "And you're worried about me still being in love with my ex… when you still have the clothes of yours in the wardrobe and pictures draped all around the house. I have more right than you do to be jealous or worried that the other is hung up over somebody else."

"I… I boxed up her clothes last week." Clint admitted. "But the pictures aren't going anywhere. Cooper and Lila need to have something left of their mother." He knew he looked pitiful and crestfallen, but at least they weren't screaming at each other anymore.

"I don't care about that. I'm just annoyed that you cared about me being married." Natasha admitted.

Seriously? How had things gotten so out of control and completely off-topic? "Alright. I thoroughly and humbly apologise. I was wrong to leave you wondering like that."

She nodded. "I accept your apology."

Clint let out a small breath of relief, although could tell that he wasn't entirely forgiven and this could come back into conversation at some point in the future. "Thank you. Now, why don't we discuss what we had originally planned to, huh?"

"Sex four times a week, except for on special occasions, where more is an option. Date night once a month. And not telling _anybody_ about our relationship. That's all we've got." Natasha listed.

Clint smirked with a chuckle. "In addition to date night, there has to be at least one activity with the kids so they can get used to you." He stated.

"Agreed." Natasha accepted and she sat down on the edge of the bed.

"What about living arrangements?" Clint asked. "I know we're on the down-low, but… Relationships _do_ need shows of commitment."

Her face looked half pissed off, half amused. "We are _not_ living together, Clint. It's _far_ too soon for that to even be on your mind."

He shrugged. "It was worth a shot. What about missions together? Would we be too attached or whatever to successfully complete missions?" He already knew the answer, honestly.

"Now you're just being stupid." She commented. "If there's nothing _serious_ to discuss, we can stop."

Well, then. "Alright, that's about all I can think of. Jeez, we're entering into a relationship and the entire thing can be summed up by, like, four things- sex, dates, seeing the kids, not telling anybody. Feels like there should be more…" Clint observed.

"You want more? Sure, here're some ground rules. Within the first year there will be NO talks of marriage or proposals. There will be no discussion of me becoming a guardian or any type of 'mother' to your children. We will not be permanently living together at that time- maybe part time. If I die, no sappy eulogy- and you won't get one, either. No stupid nicknames. There will be no comparisons between any of your exes and me, and I will not do that either. And finally, you have a limit of three personal questions a day; they cannot be rolled over onto the next day. You only ask two, you don't get to ask the third the following day. A day is from midnight to midnight. Any questions?" Natasha stated, sliding onto the bed properly during her rules and facing him. She waited patiently for his reply.

Clint blinked, trying to process all of the strange and detailed rules he'd just been given in excess. "Uh, yeah. My rules would be no cheating, no publicly humiliating me, and, most importantly, no dying. Understood?"

"What do you classify as cheating, publically humiliating you and dying? What if I just stop breathing for a few minutes- does that count? And if I beat you in a spar match, would that count as public humiliation?" She asked.

Dear God. "Nat, cheating is willingly having sex with another man. Public humiliation is sharing embarrassing information about me or otherwise just trying to ruin my reputation. Dying is the ceasing of brain activity, heart function, or breathing and resulting in your permanent absence from life." He spelt it out as well as he could.

She nodded. "Alright, I accept those terms."

He extended a hand. "Let's shake on it."

Natasha lips turned upwards as she took his hand. "It's _nearly_ official."

Clint smiled and slowly released her hand, but it was in vain as she followed his hand and ended up pushing him backwards onto the bed.

"Time to make it official."

* * *

 **Thank you for reading!**

 **Some of Natasha's rules are rules that my Dad insists upon when entering a relationship!**


	17. Here comes the bride

**Author's Note:**

 **Hello! Another installment! Sorry about the jaggered posts at the moment, when life throws you lemons... you gotta run away and hide - and unfortunately, I always forget my laptop!**

 **Huge thank you to the amazing individuals who reviewed (I loved the comments about my Dad's rules!): Guest; discordchick; grossly-sweet; Princess2016; ScarlettBarton.**

* * *

Clint shuffled his feet in a small show of nervousness as he stood there, waiting, heart beating a mile a minute. He couldn't believe this was happening! It had kind of happened out of nowhere, to be honest. They'd agreed to do this, and the ceremony was less than a week later. He felt unprepared. What if this went wrong?

However worried he might have been, Clint couldn't help but beam when he saw Natasha finally appear across the room, arm linked with Coulson's. The usual organ music started up as they began to slowly walk down the aisle, closer… closer… So far, so good, Clint noted. His eyes darted to Maria, clad in a bridesmaid's gown, who gave him a firm nod and a small smile. He returned the gesture minutely before returning his attention to his bride-to-be, who had finally reached the altar. Smiling almost mischievously, Clint reached out and pulled the thin veil from her face, winking at her and extending a hand for her to hold. Looking tempted to roll her eyes, she took it and they turned to face the minister.

"Dearly beloved, we are gather here today," the minister began, and Clint decided to tune out the long speech in favour of taking in his surroundings. The pews were packed with people in varying degrees of formal wear, with rather small, cheap decorations strewn about the room. He almost wished that Cooper and Lila could be there to see it- Lila was becoming a tiny romantic, going absolutely starry-eyed at the thought of weddings and people loving each other. Still, it was for the best that they remained at home, blissfully unaware.

Clint subtly turned his head to look upon the woman with whom he was sharing this momentous day. Natasha was wearing a simple yet elegant bridal gown with only small amounts of makeup- it wasn't like she needed anything to enhance how beautiful she was. He squeezed her hand when he noticed a familiar man entering the sanctuary, taking a seat toward the back, and the pair shared a small smirk.

"Clinton Francis Barton, do you take Natalia Alianovna Romanova to be your lawfully wedded wife?" The minister was suddenly asking, breaking Clint from his thoughts. Clint smiled.

"I do."

"And, do you, Natalia Alianovna Romanova, take Clinton-"

"Yeah. Sure." She interrupted. "I mean, I do."

The minister looked slightly surprised at the break in routine, but recovered quickly enough. "Then, by the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife." He declared. "You may now kiss the bride."

Clint took a deep breath, turned to Natasha, and gave her a quick nod. Then they both leaned forward and kissed passionately.

It was complete and utter bliss- for about four and a half seconds. Clint knew the strike was in motion when the entire audience, instead of applauding, stood simultaneously and brandished their hidden guns. "Patrick De Rossi, put your hands where we can see them!" Maria commanded, pulling her small pistol from her bouquet and taking aim.

Almost immediately the minister began making a choking sound, a blade audibly hitting the carpeted floor. Clint pulled back from the kiss to watch as the man collapsed to the ground, a small throwing knife imbedded in his chest. He laughed aloud when he saw that Natasha's arm was still extended.

"Nobody interrupts _my_ wedding." She defended.

"Nice throw, Babe."

Natasha smiled sweetly and patronisingly at him. "It's 'wifey' now." Her smile turned into a smirk as she turned away from him and walked up the aisle. "Next time, _you're_ getting married." She told Izzy, who was sniggering.

"Nice wedding- it almost seemed normal." Izzy continued sniggering as she turned and walked off with Natasha.

Clint awkwardly stood there for a few more moments before continuing on with the mission and bending down by the 'surprisingly still alive' vicar. "We have a few questions for you. I guess we'd better make sure you don't die."

The gasping man was slowly reaching for his dropped knife, so Clint grabbed the blade and tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Where were you hiding this, anyway? This is a big-ass knife. Oops, pardon my language, pastor." He teased while the man settled him with a glare. "C'mon, let's get you processed."

* * *

Natasha picked up a face wipe, removing the makeup she was wearing as Izzy unzipped the wedding dress and carefully helped her step out of it. She frowned at the wipe at the colours on it - why they insisted to use pink and purple eyeshadow made no sense; if she ever did get married again, she was _not_ wearing eyeshadow or even changing her makeup.

"How was your first wedding? Of course, it wasn't real, but you literally did the whole ceremony!" Izzy questioned as she hung up the dress and pulled the protective sheet around it.

"It was… traditional." Natasha answered, thinking back to her _actual_ first wedding, which was nothing like this one, and wouldn't be considered traditional at all. She snapped out of her thoughts. "But I didn't really marry Clint, so it was a waste of time- we could have just taken the guy out instead of staging a wedding."

Izzy laughed. "You know why we had to stage a wedding. And, even though it wasn't official, you and Clint _did_ get married." She pointed out.

Natasha turned to her, a smirk growing on both of their lips. "You're right. He _did_ say 'I do'."

* * *

Clint changed into normal clothes, hanging up the S.H.I.E.L.D.-supplied tux. The wedding was so simple and graceful, but it was nowhere near a real wedding; nothing had been planned by the bride or groom - who, as far as everybody was aware, weren't even romantically involved. So, even though on the surface it looked perfect - and the bride was perfect - it wasn't a wedding to him.

Of course, he wasn't considering remarrying at the moment, even if he were allowed to contemplate the idea; it was far too soon for him - and Nat, as she had made it perfectly clear last week when they became secretly official.

He ran a hand through his hair, not liking how he was _forced_ to have it brushed _and_ styled for the fake wedding. He looked into the mirror and smiled; he almost looked normal, but still smarter than his normal self - which was perfect, as he and Nat were going on their 'date night' tonight. He had suggested they change it to another day after receiving the mission two days ago - but she had turned that idea down, something to do with 'we can't put things off for missions, otherwise, we'd get nothing done. Of course, she was right about that.

Sighing, he pulled on his shoes and made a few additional changes to his look to make sure it suited him perfectly. Then he left his room and made his way to Natasha's and made every precaution to make sure he didn't look like he was headed for a romantic engagement, instead just casually strolling to Natasha's room as he did on a near daily basis. He knocked on her door and waited with his hands in his pockets.

The door opened and Izzy walked out and past him. "Don't have too much fun on your honeymoon." She teased as she went.

Natasha came to the door, changed out of her wedding dress and into a more casual dress. "Ready?" She asked, completely ignoring Izzy's little comment.

Clint forced himself not to outright stare at how _oh-so nicely_ her dress accentuated her curves and instead locked his eyes on her face. "Sure am." He replied, chipper.

"Let's go, then- I'm starved." Natasha said, walking past him, tugging at his arm as she passed him and headed for the door.

He followed easily, his stomach growling in agreement. "Same here. They didn't starve you to make you fit in a ridiculously small wedding dress, right?" He teased.

Natasha smirked at him over her shoulder. "Nah, I had a steak about an hour before the ceremony." She admitted.

"Lucky! I had a granola bar- Maria threatened to kill me if I ate the Cheetos I'd brought, since I'd end up 'ruining the suit'." Clint replied. "Oh, and I was thinking Italian tonight. Sound good?"

There was a chuckle from the woman in front of him, who didn't even bother to turn around this time. "Sure." She agreed. As soon as they had exited the building, she finally slowed and looked at him. "The quicker, the better."

He tilted his head, confused. "How so? Do you have other plans tonight?" He asked.

Natasha glared at him - actually _glared_ at him - and he didn't know why. "Will you just hurry up?" She asked, for some reason seeming to be annoyed at him.

Officially concerned, Clint sped up to walk parallel with her. "Nat, you were happy a second ago- seriously, what's up? You can tell me." He urged, wanting to put a hand on her shoulder but knowing she'd only snap his wrist in irritation.

"Nothing is 'up'. We just can't enjoy ourselves until we're far, far away from this place." Natasha replied, walking straight ahead.

Ah. "So… sexual tension, then?" He asked teasingly, shooting glances at the building behind them. "I get it."

If Natasha seemed pissed before, the glare she gave him now was ten times stronger. "Or maybe I do have other plans." She decided.

It was at this point that Clint decided to just let it go, seeing as Natasha clearly wouldn't be forthcoming. Sighing, he raised his hands in surrender. "Alright, whatever. Let's just get to the restaurant and stuff ourselves with fattening foods."

"Finally- now you're speaking my language."

* * *

Clint wanted this first official date night to be somewhat special, so he picked the fanciest Italian restaurant he could find and made sure to act like an absolute gentleman, holding the door for Natasha and pulling out her chair for her. Once they were both settled at their table, he put his phone on silent and met Natasha's eyes happily. "So… besides the arranged marriage, how's your day been?" He asked conversationally.

Natasha smirked at him. "Well, apart from that, it's been rather uninteresting." She replied. "How about yours?"

"About the same, really." he answered with a shrug. "But hey, this is nice, isn't it? It's super sophisticated to bring some entertainment to a dull day."

She looked around the restaurant, clearly judging it. She pursed her lips for a mere few seconds before looking back at him and smiling. "It'll do." Her smile grew slightly. "I suppose."

Hey, it was progress. He looked at the menu. "I'm thinking of getting something simple… Haven't decided what yet. You?"

"Wine, definitely; we do have to celebrate our wedding - I was thinking red." Natasha said, even though she wasn't looking at the wine menu.

Clint rolled his eyes. "And here I thought you were against marriage." He responded, raising a brow. "Although some red wine sounds pretty good."

Natasha glanced up at him. "I never said I was _against_ marriage." She corrected, placing her menu down. "Spaghetti Carbonara, side of salad."

It was only then that Clint noticed the waitress who was jotting down Natasha's order. When the girl looked to him, he quickly consulted the menu and ordered spaghetti with meat sauce- not nearly as classy as Nat's had sounded. The young waitress nodded kindly and took their menus as she sauntered off. He looked back to Natasha. "You explicitly stated that there was to be no talk of marriage for at least a year- so technically, you're against marriage for at least a year."

"Clint, darling, we're already married." Natasha said with a glint in her eye as she held up her hand with the ring that S.H.I.E.L.D had supplied, a hint of an evil smirk on her lips. "We didn't have to talk about it to do it."

He sighed dramatically. "But I never even got to propose! I was gonna have tigers, and Russian gymnasts… the whole shebang!"

"Too late, hubby." Natasha teased, sipping the water that had been supplied as soon as they sat down.

"But what about premarital counselling? Blood tests? We could both be carriers of cystic fibrosis, for all you know! And what about family guests? Having coworkers take up the majority of the guest list isn't right!" Clint continued to question melodramatically. Then he sighed. "Does this mean you're open to getting married for real, then?"

Natasha blinked at him, setting her glass down soundlessly. "No." Came her very short answer.

He nodded in understanding. "I figured. Just checking." He supplied before deciding to switch the topic to something lighter. "Did you see Fury's suit? I swear he had it specially made just to match the eyepatch." He sniggered.

"I'm sure he has many outfits to match his eyepatch." Natasha countered lightly, the smile returning to her lips. "What plans do you have for after dinner?"

"Well, basically sleeping." Clint answered. He didn't have much to do once he got home, as the kids would be in bed by then.

"Would you like some company?" Natasha offered, her voice changing again; it was almost confusing him how much her mood seemed to change in the last hour, but all of his thoughts went straight out of his mind when her foot came up and softly, teasingly, pressed between his legs.

He cleared his throat, having not expected to be put in this position, and looked directly at her. "I'd love some."

She smiled innocently at him, her eyes playful as she teased him. "Can't wait."

* * *

 **Thank you for reading!**


	18. The New Rule

**Author's Note:**

 **Hello! It's been two weeks, my apologies (Thank you, Guest, for the prompting). I did have the chapter ready... just got busy and forgot to post it! But, here it is, a pretty normal chapter for you.**

* * *

Natasha smirked unintentionally as Clint was hit in the head by a highheel - it seemed that the prostitute who was sleeping with their target was a bit annoyed that she wouldn't be getting paid. She returned to dragging their - now unconscious - target out of the room, and chuckled as she saw the other highheel heading in his direction.

"Hey!" She heard Clint exclaim.

When Clint joined her, he had restrained the prostitute with her own handcuffs and _then_ tied her. He plonked her in the back of the car with the unconscious target. As soon as he'd slipped into the seat beside her, she took off.

"Woah! Speed limit!" Clint exclaimed, pulling on his seatbelt rather rapidly.

"Don't be such a wussy - I'm _going_ the speed limit." Natasha defended, her lips turned upwards slightly, as she was _nearly_ going the speed limit - only about ten… or twenty miles per hour over the limit, anyway.

Clint leant over slightly and rolled his eyes. "You and I have different definitions on that." He commented before sliding out his phone and calling their progress in.

Natasha took a turn probably a bit too sharply, judging by the profanities coming out of the prostitute's mouth from the backseat, and then took a few more sharp turns just to annoy the woman. They returned to their designated drop point, and she came to a sudden halt.

There was a disgruntled groan from the back. "Fucking bitch." The woman spat out. "You tryna kill us all? Stupid bitch."

The only reaction she received from either Clint or Natasha was them getting out of the car and leaving her there - well, the only immediate reaction.

Natasha had the satisfaction of dragging the woman - literally kicking and screaming - out of the vehicle. "These men will compensate you for your loss of money for your job, which we interrupted. You just need to give them a few details."

Jacob, who generally worked to put a stop to human trafficking - helping when the FBI were out of their depths or jurisdiction - was going to be the one interviewing the woman. There was no harm to check who she worked for and make sure it was… well, as moral as an illegal establishment could be.

Thankfully, as soon as they handed over (read: dumped) the target, they were good to go. Natasha was back in the car first; she made a point to be, as it's usually the first person in the car that gets to drive and Clint drove like a madman.

Clint slid into the seat beside her, looking disgruntled. "Seriously? I _do_ want to get home in one piece, you know, and with the way you tend to drive…" He trailed off, stretching his legs as she put the car into drive. "Man, am I glad that's over. That… _lovely_ lady… was a complete pain in the ass."

Natasha smiled in response. "She was. I especially loved her throwing her shoes at you - did it hurt?" She asked teasingly, no concern in her voice whatsoever.

He scowled. "It did, as a matter of fact - it didn't help that those flipping heels impaled me!"

"Always one for dramatics," Natasha muttered, curving down a smaller side street. "So, you going back to base, or back home?" She questioned, hoping he answered in ten seconds as those destinations were now in opposite directions.

"Considering the base means I'd have to focus on writing a report on this lovely encounter, I'm just gonna head home for the night." Clint replied, pulling a face that perfectly encapsulated the horrors that awaited them when it came time to write a report on this mission.

A chuckle left her lips; it took her mere minutes to fill in the required paperwork, and she had no idea how it took Clint longer. Of course, he did have more to do, but that was besides the point. "Home it is." She replied, turning right onto the next road.

Clint turned to look at her. "Would you like to stay the night? It's getting late, so by the time you got back to the base, you'd only have a few hours to sleep." He pointed out, eyeing her almost hopefully.

"I don't stay the night, Clint." Natasha reminded him. "But I'm happy to drop in for a little while."

Clint sighed but nodded understandingly. "Alright- hey, I tried." He chuckled. "Just don't get into an exhaustion-induced car accident, okay?"

Natasha rolled her eyes at the lack of faith but shrugged it off as she went around in a big circle to ensure they weren't being trailed before finally parking near Clint's, on an untraveled backroad about half a mile away.

She and Clint walked side-by-side down the gravel country road, something more relaxing than one would have thought. The stars were out and on full twinkling display, and Clint walked with his head tilted back to look up at them. "You can't beat nights like this." He said languidly, letting out a sigh of contentment as they walked.

Natasha looked up, her eyes scanning the sky. "I prefer the stars and constellations you see from Russia." She informed him. She had spent many nights as a child finding any opportunity to look at the sky at night- to her, that was freedom. But from America, it was all different. The constellations were different here - yes, she could see some familiar ones, but it was still different.

"Really? I wonder what those look like…" Clint said with interest, peeking at her from the corners of his eyes before returning his almost reverent gaze to the sky. "You should see the winter skies- those are even more beautiful out here. Orion's belt is super bright, so it's easy for Lila to find it, and she adores it." He explained, a smile pulling at his lips.

She returned her gaze to the sky, her eyes scanning for the currently visible constellations, and smiled. "Yeah, I suppose."

They fell into a comfortable silence as they neared the house, not wanting to disturb or be seen by anybody.

End of Scene

Natasha took a few moments to regain her breath before sliding to the end of the bed and picking up her bra to slip it on. However, before she had the chance to clasp it, Clint's words halted her movements.

"Hang on, I wanna add a rule to your long list." Clint declared from his place at the head of the bed.

She turned to face him, holding back her sigh; she had been expecting this - him adding rules. And to be honest, she didn't want him to change what they had already established. "Fine. What?" She asked, waiting patiently to see what nonsense he came up with.

He just smiled languidly at her. "I want a designated cuddle time after sex- like an hour or so." He said, propping his head on his hand.

Natasha's eyebrows furrowed together and even though her face flashed with confusion, it wasn't because she didn't understand what he'd just asked for - it was just such a weird request. "You want… snuggle time?" She clarified, yet she knew he was going to say something stupid. "No."

Clint raised a brow. "And why not? Why can't I have a single rule where you have dozens? It's only fair." He protested.

"We already went over all of the rules; you didn't add anything then." Natasha informed him. "This needs serious thought - or can we randomly add rules and clauses in as we feel like it?" She asked, because that could be useful as the relationship progressed, but if there were too many, then it could cause arguments- especially if they clashed. No, she decided, she definitely didn't like the idea of adding new rules. "We can schedule a meeting to renegotiate the rules."

Clint sat up fully but didn't reach for his shirt. "All I'm asking for is some extra time with you- it's not a huge change! It would just slightly affect when you got back to your own room- we don't need to take this to a committee!" He argued, not angry but clearly frustrated with how she was responding. "This is supposed to help us become a stronger couple- help us bond- but when you leave immediately after, I feel like it's just a one-night stand and doesn't mean that much. We're a couple, Nat- we can take some time to hold each other." A slight sadness was hidden in his tone, behind his eyes, and suddenly he looked old again, like he had after his wife had died. This clearly meant quite a bit more to him than it had first seemed.

Natasha forced herself to not let out a huff or groan, which would have been her usual response. The mere mention of the word 'snuggle' was so peculiar - she presumed it was like cuddling, but there was no official definition. "Прижаться," she muttered- that was 'snuggle' in Russian - but that covered 'snuggle', 'cuddle' and 'nuzzle'. In English, there was a difference between 'snuggle' and 'cuddle'; if they were to have a formal discussion, she would be able to research it first. Although she had a pretty good idea what it was - and, to her knowledge, the only person she had laid with - or snuggled - was her late husband, Alexi. But here she was, practically forced to decide whether or not to accept his clause for the relationship on the little information he had supplied. Although she knew that she couldn't exactly say no, so she had to compromise, covering all avenues, whether she liked it or not. "We can't guarantee enough time to 'snuggle' all four times a week. Maybe for two out of the four times… but an hour? We sometimes do it in the middle of the day, so… an hour for one?" She negotiated.

Clint sighed. "Killjoy." He grumbled before waving it off. "Yeah, that works for me. Now come over here." He motioned her over and patted the mattress beside him with a smile.

Natasha stared at the spot he indicated for a good few seconds; she was not planning on guessing what he meant by 'snuggle', and she was definitely too proud to ask. "We'll do it next time, Clint. I need time to prepare." She informed him, turning away to collect the rest of her clothes and assuming that the conversation had come to an end. It had not.

He made a sound of protest. "Hang on, why do you need to prepare? It's literally just laying next to me. We were doing more than that earlier." He reminded her, though he seemed to realise that, either way, she wouldn't be joining him today, because he was begrudgingly worming out of the blankets and beginning to search the room for his clothes. "Is it really _that_ uncomfortable for you?" He asked as he pulled his head through the collar of his shirt.

"Yes. And yes." Natasha answered and let out a large whisp of air. "Does it really mean that damn much to you? I was sure that sorta couply stuff was reserved for marriage or something." She threw out before dropping her clothes and lying flat out on the bed. "Okay, let's snuggle, then."

Clint blinked his eyes owlishly before looking conflicted. "Nat, I don't want to make you uncomfortable. If you don't want to, we don't have to. I shouldn't have said anything in the first place." He lamented, sitting carefully on the edge of the bed as if afraid she'd attack him if he got too close.

She glared at him; seriously, _now_ he was backing out? "If you don't snuggle with me right now-" She started, pausing dramatically to see if he'd get down because she was trying to decide a punishment that was worthy of him declining her for his designated snuggle time that he had fought so hard for.

Clint chuckled lightly and laid down beside her, adjusted to better get comfortable, and let out a sigh. "There. Good?" He asked, putting his arms around her gently and squirming to get closer to her.

Natasha leant over and put a timer on her phone before returning to her position - she then looked at him expectantly. "Now what? Can I nap during our allotted 'snuggle time'?"

He shrugged. "If you want to- it's mostly just enjoying the closeness to each other. Or we could talk, if you'd like."

"What about sex? Can we have sex during the snuggle time?" Natasha asked, just to get her head around this.

"Well, uh, not really," Clint answered, his breath tickling her neck.

Natasha frowned; that was not the answer she wanted. Great, fifty-eight minutes left of… doing nothing. She'd refrain from sleeping for a while; that wouldn't accomplish anything right now. "Fine, what did you want to talk about?" She relented, resting her head on his arm.

Clint was quiet for a moment before he replied, "Who is your favourite author? Are you into the more modern stuff or are you a hardcore classics kind of person?"

She should have just napped. That would have definitely been the better option - she _hated_ small talk. "Philip Pullum - all genres of books." She then had to force herself to ask the same question back, although she really didn't care. "You?"

His answer came easily. "I love Sir Arthur Conan Doyle- specifically the _Sherlock Holmes_ books."

Natasha nodded. "I enjoy those books, too." She agreed, and after a second's thought, added a smile. "Clint?"

"Hmm?"

"I was thinking about our date night - what if we didn't go out, but instead both cook a dish?" Natasha suggested. "Or we can order in. It'll be nice for it to just be us on date night."

Clint moved slightly, and she saw him smiling. "Sure- this month, we'll do date night away from prying eyes."

Natasha smiled back at him - maybe having snuggle time wasn't that bad. As the minutes went past, she allowed her breathing to slow and regulate and smiled to herself when his did, too. Another few minutes passed and she felt him slowly drifting off to sleep, and she decided to do the same - just until the end of the allocated snuggle time.

* * *

 **Thank you! I'd love to know your thoughts, or if you have anything you'd like to see :)**


	19. Hellish Week: Monday

**Hello! This is your lucky week - however, Clint would disagree! For the next five days (including today) follow us through Clint's 'Week of Hell'. There's only one logical place to start:**

 **Monday**

Clint knew this week was doomed from the moment Lila came home from school that Monday, confused.

"Daddy, Mrs. Brennan kept asking about my bruise." She said with furrowed brows as she came to sit on the couch beside him. She pointed to the bruise on her shoulder - or, rather, the set of bruises. On Saturday, she and Cooper had been playing a rather rough game of tag upstairs that had ended in tears when Lila was shoved against the spindles on the railings by the staircase, leaving three long, thin marks, all about an inch apart from each other.

A small inkling of dread formed in Clint's stomach at her words. He knew how closely the bruises resembled finger marks, and had hoped this exact thing wouldn't happen. "Well, did you tell her what caused it?" He asked, turning off the TV. Lila nodded, but the troubled look didn't leave her face.

"Yeah, but I don't think she believed me, Daddy. She kept asking me if there was anything I needed to talk about, and if anything bad was happening at home." Oh, this was _so_ not good! Already he was being watched very closely by his children's teachers since his wife had died and widowers had been known to drink their emotional pain away, sometimes resulting in their children getting caught in the middle and getting hurt. While he was glad the teacher was being thorough and seemed to genuinely care about her students' well-being, he still couldn't help but wish she would keep her nose out of their business.

Clint put a hand on her shoulder reassuringly. "Well, you did good, Lila. You did what you were supposed to. I'll handle everything, so you don't need to worry- now go play." He gently nudged her until she nodded and went off to join Cooper in the backyard. Sighing, Clint rubbed the bridge of his nose and wondered what else would be working against him this week.

* * *

Clint was on full red-alert when his phone rang at eleven that night. Based on the time, he knew it was most likely Coulson, calling to give him a mission. Groaning, he sat up in bed and answered the phone without reading the number. "Can it wait, Coulson? I thought-"

"Clinton-Darling, it's me!" Came a voice he hadn't heard in a long time.

Frozen in utter shock, Clint mumbled out an intelligent, "Hi." Why was his mother-in-law calling him so late?

A rather unflattering snort. "Oh, Clinton-Darling, why so shy? Months without contact and that's all you can think of to say?" Clint wanted the doorbell to ring, wanted to suddenly be afflicted with food poisoning, _anything_ to give him a good reason to hang up right then and there. Lorelei Henry had disapproved of her daughter's boyfriend the moment she laid eyes on him for the first time, and had continued to blatantly disapprove until, against her wishes, Laura married him. Clint had to give the woman credit, though- after Cooper was born, the woman had tried her absolute hardest to be as friendly as possible and hide how much she really hated her son-in-law. It was still very clear how she felt, however, and her attempts to be friendly were too over-the-top and honestly exhausting to put up with. Besides that, the woman was completely overbearing and loved to control every little thing in her environment- especially when she stayed with them. After Laura died, Clint had done his best to avoid talking to Lorelei- both because of the painful reminders his dead wife's mother would bring, and because he knew she'd be twice as overwhelmingly frustrating and judgemental as usual.

Gathering his patience and will, he took a breath before replying. "Sorry- you caught me by surprise, Mom." He hated calling her that, but he didn't feel like listening to her hour-long explanation on why he absolutely must. "How've you been?" The _since your daughter's funeral_ was left unsaid.

"I've been fine, thank you! However, I've been missing my grandbabies, Clinton-Darling, so I was hoping to come and visit- say… Friday?" Clint almost wanted to laugh- she phrased it as a question, but they both knew it was more of a statement than anything. "Yes, Friday. Anyway, I'll make sure to come earlier in the day this time- don't want you to have to let the children stay up _much too late_ to wait for me again!" Aaaand there was the mandated judgemental comment he'd been bracing himself for.

"Of course, Mom." If he argued she'd stay an extra week just to spite him, and while she was amazingly nice to the children, she spoiled them way too much for his liking. Besides, having her around always threatened to give Clint ulcers, just from the stress of trying to keep her pacified.

"Wonderful! Now, you have a lovely night, Clinton-Darling!" And with that she hung up, leaving Clint to wonder how badly this visit would go.

* * *

At eleven-thirty, Clint was still wide-awake, gut roiling with dread. There was a reason parents-in-law were so widely hated- and Lorelai was almost the pure personification of that reason. Plus several more. The woman was a handful on the best of days, and a complete Satanic spider-monkey on the worst. Laura had always made those visits more bearable, able to keep her mother in check most of the time and encourage Clint to stay patient, and now that she was gone… well, all hell was sure to break loose.

He was pulled from his musings by the sound of his window sliding open, and with lightning-fast movements, he turned on the lamp and pulled out his gun, fixing it on the window. His arms dropped in shock when he saw who it was. "Nat, what the hell? What are you doing?" He demanded as she casually slid through the opening.

"Shush- we don't want to wake your kids." Natasha hushed him. She silently stepped into the room and closed the window.

Clint stared at her. "No, seriously, how did you do that without setting off the alarm? And _what were you standing on? We're on the second floor_!"

Natasha waved her hand dismissively. "Details." She replied, kicking off her shoes, shrugging her jacket off and then taking off her jeans before just sliding into his bed. "Why are you still awake?"

"Why were you expecting me to be asleep?" He countered, scooting over to allow her more room.

She shrugged casually, taking off her watch and dropping it onto the nightstand where she had also placed her mobile. "You just look tired, and you're in bed - what else would I expect?" She paused. "What were you doing, then? Masturbating?"

Clint snorted. "I wish. No, I just got off the phone with the monster-in-law, who's decided she's gonna mosey on over and be our dictator for a few days." With a groan, he laid back down, turning off the lamp. "I've got such a bad feeling about this week."

Natasha pulled a face. "I'm busy... whenever that is." She stated, lying down beside him, but soon shuffled closer. "Want me to assassinate her for you?" She offered - and it appeared genuine.

Clint placed a hand over his heart. "You would do that- for me?" He asked in a mock-awestruck voice. "I'm touched. Too bad it would break the kids' hearts."

"They'll get over it; I hear kids bounce back very quickly," Natasha replied as if it were simple. "But, fine, I'll let the monster-in-law live."

Clint snuggled up to her with a sigh. "Just… don't make that offer again when she's here… I might be more inclined to take you up on it."

She nodded. "Noted. Now let's stop thinking about that and move your mind on to something else." She said, her hand sliding down his chest, and he instantly forgot about what they were talking about.

* * *

 **A/N. Thank you for reading!**

 **Now, the usually thank you's!**

 **To ThisVioletofMine for being an amazing beta and an even more amazing person!**

 **And to the also, very amazing individuals who reviewed the last chapter: discordchick; Guest; Princess2016.**

 **I'll see you all tomorrow to see what hellish adventures Clint goes through on the Tuesday!**


	20. Hellish Week: Tuesday

**Author's note:**

 **Thank you to Guest for reviewing! - Oh, I wanna use that Cruella De Vil reference sooo much!**

 **Thank you to discordchick for also reviewing! Sending you lots of cookies! :D**

 **And thank you again to Guest (Who could be the same one, or a different one), I saw your review at work and grinned. Somebody's excited for another chapter! But, wait no longer!**

* * *

Clint woke that morning with a peaceful smile on his face- he and Nat had fallen asleep during 'snuggle time', it seemed. She was curled up against him, still sound asleep, and he took a moment to enjoy the peace and quiet and happiness. He had a lot on his mind to worry about, but when she was there, in his arms, he could forget about them for a bit. Sighing, he shifted slightly to put both arms around her.

Natasha resisted for a mere second before letting out a breath and relaxing against him. "I knew this snuggle rule would be trouble." She muttered against his chest.

He chuckled, giving her a squeeze. "Is there anything about us that _isn't_ trouble?" He challenged lightly.

She hummed in response before pulling away. "I have to go- _some_ of us still work full-time." She teased, planting a long kiss on his lips.

Clint sighed as he watched her gather her things and leave. He wished she could stay full-time so she could help him with all of the problems that seemed to only be arising this one week. He shook his head slightly- no, he wouldn't wish this hellish week on anybody else, and involving Nat would only make things more complicated.

"Dad!" Cooper shouted, bursting through the door. "The washing machine's broken! It's spilling bubbles _everywhere_!"

Well, maybe it wasn't too late to call Natasha back...

* * *

"Lila, _stop_!" Clint scolded futilely as he watched his daughter slip and slide around in the huge puddle of bubbly water all over the laundry room floor. She giggled, pretending not to hear him, and kept jumping in it, soaking her clothes thoroughly. Cooper jumped in beside her, splashing her repeatedly until she squealed and returned the gesture, turning it into an all-out bubble war.

Clint stopped trying to repair the washing machine - the key word there being _trying_ \- and reached out to snag Lila's shirt. She just squealed again and slipped easily from his grasp. Groaning in exasperation, Clint rubbed his temples for a moment to dispel the oncoming headache. He leant over and picked up a soaking wet t-shirt from the pile of clothes that had been in the washer when it acted up- clothes that weren't actually clean yet.

"Daddy, you should try this!" Lila cried jovially, flipping onto her belly and pretending to swim in the shallow water. Her hair was bubbly and matted at this point, and Clint knew they would both need a thorough bathing before they looked - and smelt - normal again.

"Children, stop making a bigger mess!" He snapped. He was ignored. He knew he needed to punish them for deliberately disobeying him, but for now he decided to choose his battles wisely- he had more important things to do than spend half an hour explaining why they were in trouble. Like fixing the damn washing machine.

Sighing in defeat, he left the children to play in their little world of bubbles.

* * *

Clint was taking a rare break from trying to get the house ready for Lorelai and trying to fix the washing machine- still no success, and was nursing a cup of tea, just staring out the window and hoping his pounding headache would abate soon. Then his phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Yes, hello, is that Mister Clinton Barton?" A woman asked, her tone professional.

Clint instantly got a bad feeling in his gut. "Uhm, yeah, that's me." He confirmed, stepping out of the kitchen. "Can I help you?" There was a shuffling of papers.

"Yes you can - I'm Amanda Reynolds, a CPS social worker." If this were a cartoon, Clint would have gulped exaggeratedly at that point. As it was, he almost choked on his own spit in surprise, but thankfully kept silent. "We were notified about a concern in your household and was wondering if we could follow up on that. Can I confirm that Lila and Cooper Barton and living with you full time?"

Clint swallowed thickly, hardly believing this was happening. "Yeah, yes, they are." He answered as calmly as he could.

"Excellent, thank you. Would you be open to having a home inspection, Sir?" Her tone clearly said that it wasn't as optional as her words made it seem.

"Uhm… okay. When were you thinking?" He already knew what she was going to say, based on how this week was going.

There was a pause on her end but he distinctly heard some papers being moved around. "I am free this Thursday afternoon- however, if that's too short of notice, we could do it sometime at the end of this month." She suggested.

Sighing, Clint mentally went through his schedule - and decided, upon finding Thursday free, to just get this over with as soon as possible. Also, it would show in good faith that he had nothing to hide. "Yeah, Thursday works. Anytime that day."

"Thank you. Would you be home from collecting your children at four pm?" She inquired.

Clint took another breath. "Yes, we'll be home."

"Thank you very much for your time, I'll see you on Thursday," Amanda replied.

She waited for him to reply before ending the call, but he couldn't help but feel utter dread. Groaning, he dropped his phone onto the coffee table and fought the tempting urge to rip his hair out.

* * *

 **Thank you for reading!**


	21. Hellish Week: Wednesday

**Hello!**

 **Thank you for the reviews! Seriously, I love them!**

 **My sincere apologies that this chapter is soo late in the day! Tomorrow's will be posted a lot earlier!**

 **And this is a small mid-week chapter, but, tomorrow's will more than make up for it! (it's longer)**

* * *

Clint groaned and massaged his temples tiredly as he leaned over his desk, eyes blearily attempting to focus on the mission reports in front of him. He could easily have stayed home this week with the lack of missions, but of course, someone screwed up with the newbies' mission reports and ended up accidentally withholding them from him, and damn, there were a lot. He'd gotten a call from Coulson that he needed to come in and get those completed ASAP because they should have been filed weeks ago and were just now getting to him. Why did he have to suffer for someone else's stupidity?

It was now way past his usual quitting time, and there was just no end in sight for these papers- he was already working two hours overtime, which, while it meant more pay, it also meant more stress added to this already stressful week. Not to mention he would miss out on saying goodnight to his kids.

 _Target pulled a knife from a nearby serving tray and threatened Agent Dukov with it._ Clint would have been interested in finding out the results of that mission, except that this had been sent to _him_ , meaning that the reporting agent had done something stupid that he needed to scan over and judge the severity of. As he'd expected, the knife was just a butter knife, meaning that the situation could have been resolved much more easily than by shooting the target in the hip. Honestly, why were they accepting such inexperienced youngsters to do this kind of work?

Two hours of losing faith in humanity later and Clint was finally behind the wheel of his car, headed home. Patricia had called him earlier that day to let him know that the new washing machine had arrived and was waiting in the laundry room, so he was eager to start up the washing again- the pile of dirty clothes in there had gotten frighteningly large the past few days.

He almost wanted to sob when he came through the garage door to find that the washing machine wasn't hooked up yet- something he had thought was included in the list of services for the machine. He'd thought he'd even paid the fee to have it done! Damn, now he'd have to do it himself because he was _not_ waiting another week for someone to come in and do it for him.

It was almost three in the morning when he stumbled into bed, sweaty and with a pounding head, the new washing machine successfully hooked up.

* * *

 **Thank you!**


	22. Hellish Week: Thursday

**Author's Note:**

 **Hello! Nice and early for you all today! So, no waiting needed!**

* * *

That Thursday morning, Clint was in a total rush to get the house as tidy as possible, mind racing as he tried to remember everything he needed to get done. He was currently trying to frantically get the laundry done after the old washing machine broke and created a huge backup. But he still only had five hours until the social worker is expected to arrive and during that time he had to clear the backyard, make sure there were no trace of anything S.H.I.E.L.D related, hide all of his weapons without it looking like he was hiding anything, sort out his room - which he hasn't properly sorted since Laura died (The rule about if something hasn't been used in a year, they throw it, really didn't apply now). And on top of that, after washing and drying the mountain of clothing, he had to put it all away too. Five hours was plenty of time… wait, not five, three and a half until he had to leave to pick up Cooper and Lila, who then he had to make sure were fed, happy and clean.

He grunted as he received a work email, he didn't have time for that right now!

* * *

It was almost a relief when Lila and Cooper were home, both of them helping to tidy up little things - things he wouldn't have thought of - but mainly, they were both clean and happy and feeding them was never a difficult task.

However, it was only when he decided to give them something healthy, in case the social worker turned up early, did he realise he needed to go grocery shopping. Sure, they could survive for a couple of days, but it wouldn't be healthy at all. Damn it. He looked at the time, over half an hour, that would be enough time to rush to the shop and get back with plenty of time.

Unfortunately, he wasn't that lucky. "Daddy! There's a bird!" Lila screamed upon sliding into the kitchen, eyes wide.

"What?"

"Cooper opened the backdoor to throw the sandbox toys outside, and this birdie flew in, and now it won't go!" Lila explained frantically. Clint's stomach tied itself in knots with fear. Why did something have to go wrong _now_?

He spent the next fifteen minutes chasing that damned bird, trying fruitlessly to capture it and release it back outside. In the process, the tiny intruder managed to knock over several picture frames, break a vase and leave unbelievable amounts of feathers in its wake. When Clint finally managed to catch it (thanks largely in part to one of his half-empty tranq darts and a butterfly net) and put it back outside, where it could come to on the porch and leave when it was ready, Clint almost fell to his knees when he came back inside to see the mess the little bastard had made.

Clint scrambled to clean up this new mess while cursing a blue streak under his breath, wishing that the universe would take just a little pity on him.

* * *

There was a knock on the door five minutes early, the only time Clint wanted somebody to be late. He took a breath before answering the door. A woman in her late forties stood there, her hair pulled back in a neat ponytail and a folder in her left arm. Her smile was friendly and reached her eyes as she addressed him.

"You must be Mr. Barton, I am Amanda Reynolds, we spoke on the phone earlier this week." She introduced herself, offering a hand.

Clint accepted her hand. "Thank you for finding the time to come out. Please, come on in." He stepped to the side and when he turned around was pleased to Cooper and Lila still clean and uninjured, it was afraid with his luck that something would have happened in that two seconds he had his back turned. "These are my children- Cooper and Lila." He introduced.

"Hello, it's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Amanda." She introduced herself, holding out her hand for the children - but it was obvious that it was their choice.

Cooper took the woman's hand and gave it a firm shake. "Hi. It's nice to meet you too." He said with a politeness that made Clint proud. The boy looked past the social worker at his father, looking nervous and unsure, and Clint gave him a calm nod and reassuring smile. He was doing fine.

Lila jumped in after that. "Hi, I'm Lila! It's super nice to meet you!" She exclaimed, taking Amanda's hand from Cooper's and shaking it quickly. Clint almost groaned- why did she have to be hyper now of all times?

"You both look very happy right now, have you been playing?" She asked the two youngsters.

The children shared a look. "No, we've been cleaning!" Lila replied perkily. "A bird got inside and made a _huge_ mess, and it took _forever_ to fix it! Daddy shooted it and saved it, though!" Clint almost choked- holy shit, Lila was going to have him branded as a psycho.

"I didn't _shoot_ it, Liles- well, not with a bullet." He interjected nervously, trying to save this before it all went down the toilet. "It was a small tranq dart so we could catch it- we put it outside then so it could go when it woke up." _Please don't ask about the tranq dart, please!_ He silently begged of their visitor.

Amanda chuckled. "Sounds very exciting." She commented before looking around the room. "It looks like you did a brilliant job of cleaning up - I wouldn't have guessed there was a bird in here earlier."

Clint sighed in relief while the children puffed up in pride. "We worked super hard on it!" Lila replied with a huge smile.

"They're quite hard workers." Clint agreed fondly. _Even though half the time I end up cleaning up the new messes they make as they clean._

"Glad to hear." Amanda replied before turning her attention back to Clint. "You don't need to do anything out of the ordinary. Your children can do what they usually do, and I'll appreciate if we could just sit down and talk for a little while."

With even further relief - although somewhat mixed with cautious suspicion - Clint nodded to the kids, dismissing them to go and do what they normally did when they got back from school - which was usually to play video games or board games. Clint led the way to the living room and offered the comfiest armchair to Amanda while he took a seat on the couch, fingers tapping on the armrest in quiet agitation. "Alright, what did you want to discuss?" He asked as pleasantly as he could.

"Just generally, maybe you could tell me about your children to start off."

Clint collected his thoughts before beginning. "Well… Cooper is eight years old, and he loves playing team games and sports- he likes working with others, something his mother and I have always been proud of. He doesn't have much of a temper - although he does have tantrums from time to time." At her gesture to continue, he moved on. "Lila is five years old and absolutely loves anything that requires an excess of physical activity - she's always moving; dancing, jumping, et cetera. She's very kind-hearted and compassionate, although she is rather quick the throw fits when things don't go her way. I love them both; their personalities are so unique and amazing to see, and I wouldn't change them for the world."

She nodded along with him. "Can you please tell me about a normal day with your children."

"Well, on school days, I get them both up at about seven-thirty. Cooper can get himself dressed, and Lila can too, but I have to pick out her outfits because she's not the best with picking matching colors." He almost winced at the memory of the neon orange shirt over the bright red shorts she'd tried to wear to school. "While they're getting dressed, I come downstairs to set out Cooper's cereal and make Lila's waffles. After they're fed, they get socks and shoes on and grab their backpacks and I drive them to school. Once I pick them up after school, we come back home and I make them some snacks while they do their homework for the day. After they're done, I let them play whatever they'd like to until dinner. After dinner, we watch a movie together before I shower Lila put her to bed at eight-thirty. After her tuck-in, I put Cooper in the shower, then tuck him in at nine. Then I come downstairs and do dishes from dinner and other little things." He finished. "Sometimes I'm at work, though, so they have a nanny who comes and goes through the same schedule with them."

Amanda jotted a few notes down, but successfully had it tilted and in code so he wasn't completely sure if it were good notes or bad notes. "Is your job flexible?"

Clint had anticipated such a question, and had spent days battling with himself over how to answer. He couldn't be fully honest, could he? "Well, I'm an FBI special agent, so I used to do quite a bit of traveling. After Laura - their mother - died, though, I changed my hours so I only go on major missions once a week. I do get home late a few times, though, but the nanny is always around to step in if that happens. And weekends are my days off." He explained.

"It must have been hard for the children to lose their mother at such a young age, and hard for you too," she began. "Have you noticed any troublesome behaviour changes?"

Clint took a slightly shaky breath. "When she died… we were all in shock for a while. Lila wasn't perky anymore, but she hadn't quite grasped what had happened, I don't think, so she just kind of… moped. And Cooper started having more frequent bedwetting incidents for a good two weeks after, and the littlest frustrations made him burst into tears. I was… well, it hit me hard. I took several weeks off of work and stayed home with them, and we just… well, I tried to make sure they knew they could talk to me whenever they needed to, but I was always afraid that I was being a coward, that I should be the one to start the talking, not them. But I guess I did alright, since they're mostly back to their usual selves now, right? Still, sometimes there are moments when it just… hits us all, I think. We can't make ourselves smile, and all over again we're missing Laura. Those moments are hard." He admitted. "But we fight through them."

"It sounds like it really did impact you all."

"Oh, it had an impact on _everything_. Down to how we feed the birds outside." Clint answered, he looked around. "Excuse me one moment, just going to check on the children."

Amanda nodded understandingly, and when he returned, they continued to talk for a further hour before they were interrupted on Lila.

"Daddy!" Lila said as she came floating into the room with a half eaten apple in one hand and a piece of paper in the other. "Can you help? I got numbers for homework and it's _so_ super hard."

Clint had to stop himself from questioning where she got the apple, but was more surprised at her asking for help, he usually offered it. "Uhh, it'll have to be a little later, sweetie - when Amanda leaves."

Lila nodded. "Okay, Daddy!" She exclaimed, running straight off to where she had been.

It wasn't long before Amanda was finished, and he waited for her to ask to see every single inch of the house, but she didn't. So, he offered, and it felt more like he was convincing her - but he didn't have anything to hide - well, apart from the weapons and where he really worked.

He did the tour in as much detail as he could muster, and almost wasn't able to hide his surprise over the bowl of fruit on the side in the kitchen and his children doing what looked like homework or drawing. The subtle changes in his home were noticeable to him, but he had to pay them no mind for now.

It was over, sooner than he had expected, and led the way back to the front door.

Amanda turned to face him as they reached the door and he was dreading what she might say. "Just to inform you, I am going to advise that no further action will be taken at this given moment." He saw sure he let out a huge breath of relief. "If you did any help with anything, just let us know, but it's evident how much you care for your children. Thank you for your time."

Clint shook hands with the woman, bidding her a good day before they parted and he closed his front door - finally, some good news.

"That wasn't so bad." Natasha commented from the couch, biting into a fresh red apple - so that's where all of the fruit and veg came from. He just moved and slouched down on the couch beside her, instead of questioning when she had gotten there. "I covered with Coulson with you today, but you need to come in tomorrow - apparently, you're taking too much time off."

Great. Just fucking great.

* * *

 **Thank you for reading!**

 **Just a forewarning, tomorrow's chapter isn't even finished :P So, that will probably come super late in the day!**


	23. Hellish Week: Friday

**Author's Note:**

 **Hello! It is still Friday here in England, and definitely in America - Italy and some other European countries, not so much, sorry! But, still, Friday here and I hope you won't be disappointed!**

 **I actually had a little bit of fun writing this chapter!**

 **I can't see my reviews, but thank you so much, everybody!**

* * *

Clint huffed as he picked up another file from his desk - sure, this was only the second day he had turned up to the office, but he was sure he did everything on _Wednesday_ \- how on earth was there so much to do? His eyes kept glancing at the clock; tick tock, tick tock. He had been terrified about the social worker coming, and anxious about his mother-in-law Lorelei coming the next day - but now, he was wondering if that concern should have been the other way around.

The social worker was kind, compassionate, and it appeared that everything would be put to bed. Also, he had a new understanding and appreciation for them. However, Lorelei was none of that - she was a cold-hearted bitch to him and would happily watch him tumble to the ground. Of course, he knew she would never actually do that- as soon as Laura and he had children, she showed her support.

The one thing about Lorelei that he couldn't dispute was that she loved her family. And especially now that he was a single father, he knew, if needed, she would fight to help him out. But that didn't change the fact that she hated him.

Unfortunately, he didn't need saving - unless she knew about the social worker, which thankfully she didn't - which meant he had no idea what was in store for him when she did get there. He hadn't been as generous with inviting her over as Laura had been, and was ready for the thousand cuts that she'd use to break him down. He could already hear it.

His eyes flew up to the door as Natasha stepped in with lunch. "I don't have time for that," Clint grunted, grabbing another file.

"Clint, you have to eat." She stated, placing the sandwich and coffee on the desk behind him. He let out a small nod - he'd definitely drink the coffee - and waited for her to leave, but she didn't. Instead, she picked up a file.

"What are you doing?"

Natasha leant back against the chair. "I was bored- thought I'd help you with your mountain."

Clint blinked a few times; maybe he was going delusional. The Natasha he knew would not voluntarily do paperwork- in fact, he usually did hers for her. Thinking about Wednesday and today, he hadn't received any files from her to do. Then it occurred to him what she had said the previous night - she had covered for him. Covered for him for what? Great, now he knew something serious was going on. "What's going on, Nat?" He asked, dreading the answer already.

"Nothing that can't wait until Monday from you - I have it covered." She answered, almost glaring at him.

"What's covered?" He asked her.

This time, Natasha did glare at him, and damn, it was killer. He knew she hated being second-guessed, but he didn't want to be blindsided on Monday morning. If it was bad news, she might as well tell him during this week of hell instead of after his weekend of hell. "It doesn't matter."

He sighed. "To me it does!" He said more aggressively than he had anticipated.

"Well, too fucking bad, Clint. Because you have too much on your mind right now." Natasha replied with the same tone, but it was more friendly because she wasn't angry - they both knew she was completely in control of her feelings, but it did make him stop.

Opening the file in his hands, he relented- there was still too much work to do, and not enough time. Thankfully, the house was already spotlessly tidy, so he didn't have to do that before Lorelei arrived. "Thanks for yesterday."

Natasha looked up at him, granting him a nod. "We're partners."

Clint almost let out a chuckle - almost. "I meant for helping when the social worker was there - going grocery shopping, sending Lila in there to ask about helping her with homework, showing them eating healthily. It really helped."

"Save the emotional crap for later," Natasha replied, a smirk on her face. "Two hours left until you have to leave; let's get this work done."

With a thankful nod, he agreed, but didn't say anything- he didn't want to bore her with more 'emotional crap'... Or laugh as he attempted to do so because she was dead on with how much time he had.

* * *

Clint pulled the clean t-shirt over his daughter's head and quickly threw the now-dirty one into the hamper before making sure her pigtails were straight for the fifth time. He took a breath and looked at both of them, making sure they were both clean.

"Now, kids, remember: don't do anything that'll make Gramma Lori mad or uncomfortable," Clint informed the two, more out of principle than anything- to Lorelai, Cooper and Lila could do no wrong. "This means no whining, no fighting, and no showing off your burp-alphabet." This last one was directed sternly at Cooper, who blushed. "Also, if she says something, always listen- even if it's just a boring history of how she decided to name her dog Diogi." The kids nodded in an almost comically solemn way.

"Wait, Diogu isn't coming, right?" Lila asked worriedly. She loved dogs, but Diogu was old and grumpy and loved to steal Lila's dolls and hide them around the house - in fact, she was still missing two Barbies after the dog's last visit. Clint chuckled and ruffled her hair.

"Nah, thankfully he's staying with Grandpa George." The kids visibly sighed in relief.

Clint peeked out the window for the umpteenth time in a row anxiously, and this time, he saw a familiar obnoxiously purple car in the driveway. "She's here!" Cooper and Lila needed no further prompting, bursting out the front door and running down the driveway to tackle their grandmother in a hug. Clint took his time walking down to join them, wanting to put off the tense greeting for as long as possible.

Still, he reached the woman far too quickly for his liking. "Oh, Clinton-Darling! You're looking well!" Lorelei exclaimed upon seeing him, reluctantly releasing Lila to come over and squeeze him a little too tightly. "Oh, it's simply been too long!"

"Yes, it has." He blankly agreed, even though he actually thought quite the opposite. "But let's not stay out here all night - come on in!" She patted his cheek gratefully and passed him her heaviest suitcase to carry.

"I've got so many things to tell you, children!" She was exclaiming to her two loyal followers as they strolled to the front door.

So far, so good.

* * *

"Gramma Lori, I lost another tooth!" Lila replied eagerly, pointing to the gap in her teeth proudly. Lorelei leant down to gaze into the girl's mouth.

"Oh, my, your teeth are starting to disappear!" She cried with mock horror that made the children burst into laughter. Clint raised an eyebrow but kept his mouth shut as he placed the dinner onto the table. Lorelei had been there for an hour and had kept the children entertained with stories the entire time - right now, he couldn't quite remember why he hadn't wanted her to come.

Lila sat down in her own seat when she noticed dinner was ready and picked up her fork. With a smile, he divvied the food out.

"Oh, this _is_ an interesting meal," Lorelei commented, poking it with her fork. "I hope you didn't make this on my account."

Clint forced a smile. "Of course not, Lori. I let Lila choose dinner today." He replied, forcing back a smirk at the look on the woman's face - the instant halt in her stature as she knew she couldn't insult his cooking without upsetting her granddaughter. And it was obvious she'd been about to do that.

Lila grinned happily. "Yes! You like Mac and Cheese- right, Gramma Lori?" She asked, looking up with adoration. "Daddy makes the best!"

"Oh, of course, I like Mac and Cheese - I just prefer it with more vegetables," Lorelei replied with a smile- she then sent Clint a look of disapproval, which was only reinforced by Cooper.

"Bleh! Veg? Daddy never makes us eat veg."

At the almost sadistically-gleeful look that entered Lori's eyes, Clint knew he'd be hearing plenty of crap about that later. Groaning, he forced himself to swallow another bite of his food, praying that his children wouldn't say anything more incriminating than that. "That's not true, Coop- I always pack a serving of fruits and vegetables in your lunches."

Lila giggled. "I don't eat those, Daddy! They're gross!" Clint gave her a soft glare.

"They're good for you."

"But why can't we just have fruit snacks instead? They're fruit." Cooper protested. Clint fought the urge to facepalm.

"Not only don't you know what they eat during the day, but you haven't explained basic foods to them?" Lorelei questioned, tutting slightly. "Coop, Lila, why don't you eat your fruit? Your mother loved fruit."

The children shrugged, and Lila got this _down_ look on her face that made it plain as day that she didn't want to be reminded of her mother in such scolding context. Clint bristled. "They do eat fruit, Lorelei. They love strawberries. And how am I supposed to know what they eat when they're at school, exactly?" The kids seemed to shrink back slightly as if they could sense an impending argument. Smart.

"Do you ask them?" Lorelei asked in a condescending tone.

He scowled at her. "Sometimes, yes. But I'm not going to be a Nazi about it and hound them every day." He shot back, gripping his fork tightly. "I do my best, Lori, and your scolding me isn't going to change anything."

Lorelei took a bite of the food and then pushed her plate away. "I am not scolding you, Clint. I just hope you can hear me out and be a better father to your children - after all, we both only want the best for them."

Oh, he should have known this was a terrible idea. Without Laura there to mediate, things were worse than ever between him and Lorelei. And she was being oddly offensive and direct, especially since passive-aggressive was her specialty. He supposed the death of her daughter would have some negative affects. "Yes, but half the time what you want to change 'for their good' is actually just to spite me." He retorted, crossing his arms.

"Clinton - I don't appreciate being talked to in that manner, especially in front of children," Lorelei replied before picking up her water and taking a sip. "Well, when _did_ they last eat fruit?"

Lila piped up from the end of the table, sounding a bit scared to butt in. "Just this morning, Gramma, promise!" She said pleadingly. Clint knew this fighting was making the kids miserable and scared that they'd lose their relationship with their grandmother, so he decided to just suck it up and take the higher road.

Sighing, Clint grabbed the dirty plates. "Alright, Lorelei, enough of this. Sorry to argue."

Lorelei smiled successfully. "Thank you, Clinton-Darling. I knew you could be reasonable." She responded. "Oh really, what fruit was that? Maybe we could see if Daddy will pack it in your lunch?" She suggested as she turned back to the children.

Clint bit back his scathing reply that they had been arguing over their _vegetable_ intake earlier and let the kids take over the conversation. Lila was happy enough to provide an answer.

"Oh, Nat gave us these really good sour apples!" Clint's stomach dropped- _no, don't bring Nat into this!_

"Oh!" Lorelei started. "That was nice of Nat, now. I don't think I know her- does she bring you these sour apples a lot?" She paused, her smile bright for the children, but Clint knew it wasn't genuine. "I'd love to try one." She added, which only made the children more eager to talk.

"She brings us lots of fruit! Like sweet tomatoes and these really juicy raspberries!" Cooper exclaimed to Clint's horror. "Sometimes she brings brownies or cookies, too!"

Lorelei played up her enthusiasm. "Wow! She sounds so nice! How do you know her?"

Lila chirped, "She's Daddy's best friend!" Clint gestured at them to cut it out, and they only listened after the damage had been done.

"Well, not my _best_ friend… she's just a very nice coworker." Clint lied lamely, knowing she could see right through it.

"Hmm, well. Maybe she can come over this weekend." Lorelei suggested, standing up. "I'd love to meet who's been spending so much time with my grandchildren." The look she gave him was accusing him of a lot more than she was saying. "But in the meantime, I have presents for my favourite grandchildren!"

Clint knew without looking that said presents would be loud in nature and also comprised of tiny pieces that could easily be scattered on an otherwise-clean floor.

* * *

"Goodnight, Liles." Clint bade his daughter as he closed the door behind him, glad that was finally over. It had taken forever to convince Lorelei to stop reading Lila 'one more' bedtime story. With a sigh, he led his mother-in-law to the guest room. "Alright, here's your room- the bathroom's across the hall and extra bedding is in this closet." He pointed it out, then made to leave.

"Hold on, Clinton." Lorelei interrupted his leaving. "I didn't come down here to fight, as obviously, us fighting means I am not allowed to see my only grandchildren."

He sighed and leant against the doorframe. "I know- I guess our personalities just clash… Let's try to get along better."

Lorelei nodded. "In that case, maybe I could meet the woman you are replacing my daughter with?" She asked him pointedly - since when did she become so direct?

Clint fought back a groan- even when they were agreeing not to fight, she was _still trying to fight_! "Not replace, Lori- I'm allowed to have other relationships after my wife dies, you know. Or do you think I should continue raising the children on my own?" He snapped.

"So, it's true. You _are_ dating somebody." She commented. "And so soon- it hasn't even been two years and you are bringing another woman into the household? Lila and Cooper have a mother - Laura."

He clenched his fists. " _Had_. _Had_ a mother, Lorelei. I wish more than anything that Laura hadn't died- I loved her, goddamnit!"

"She is STILL their mother! It doesn't matter if she died or not! And I will make sure those children know who their mother is… or as you so clearly divined, _was_." She spat out. "And I still _love_ my daughter, but as you clearly just stated, you loved her - death doesn't stop love. I knew you didn't deserve her."

He ran a hand over his face to stop from attacking her. "You're right- I didn't deserve a woman like her. I didn't deserve to have her bear my children- but you know what? She chose me! She married me-"

"Clinton-Darling, please, let's not fight." Lorelei interrupted. "I've had a long day- please, leave me be to rest."

More frustrated than before, he nodded tensely and left.

* * *

 **Thank you!**

 **As you can see, the hell with Lorelei has just begun, however, you'll have to wait around a week for the hellish weekend! Until then, my friends!**


	24. Hellish Weekend!

**Author's Note:**

 **Here we are! Clint's Hellish Weekend!**

 **Thank you ever so much for the lovely reviews! Thanks, Guest; Discordchick; Princess2016!**

* * *

Clint was sleeping rather peacefully, considering a monster had taken up residence in his house, when he was woken by a not-so-gentle pat on the cheek that quickly turned to a full-on slap when he didn't immediately respond. With a startled noise, he shot up in bed to stare at Natasha. "Nat, what the hell? How'd you get in here?" Even though he knew better than to ask at this point.

"That's not the issue right now. Cruella De Vil is telling your children to get dressed quietly because she has a 'fun day out' with them planned."

That was quite possibly the quickest he'd ever jumped out of bed. "What? That conniving kidnapper!" He stumbled into some pants and sprinted down the stairs, honestly not caring if Nat decided to show herself to Lorelei or not. All he knew was if she did, and it came to physical blows, he would _not_ be attempting to hold Natasha back. "Lorelei Henry! Don't you _dare_ leave this house with my children without telling me first!" He shouted as he launched himself down the stairs to find the trio in the entryway, paused in various stages of getting their shoes and jackets on.

"Clinton - we didn't want to wake you. Isn't that right, kids?" Lorelei questioned rhetorically - not that Lila knew what a rhetorical question was.

"No, you said Daddy didn't want to come to the zoo." She said.

Clint simmered and barely bothered to hide it. "Really? Because I don't recall the zoo _ever_ being discussed in the first place." He said pointedly, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring at his mother-in-law. "Taking them without informing me is a bold move, Lorelei. What was your plan, exactly, for when I woke up, found them to be missing, and panicked? Were you going to bother even leaving me a note?"

Lorelei crossed her arms. "Are you saying you don't trust me with the children? That is a bold and accusing statement right there! I am their grandmother and if I wanted to take them out, I shouldn't have to ask _permission_ from you!" She retorted. "It's not like you could stop me anyway- we're family."

"Oh _really_?" Clint challenged, malice in his voice. "Lila, Cooper, come over here, please." He couldn't help but smirk when they obeyed and went to stand by him. "Listen- you're not going to the zoo right now." He told the kids gently. He felt pretty bad for ruining their fun day out of spite for Lorelei, but he couldn't let an obvious challenge to his authority slide.

"Oh, don't be so silly, Clinton. Come on, kids, we'll get ice cream." Lorelei said, and with the suggestion obviously tempting the children, Lorelei reached her hand out to grab onto Lila's arm. An inch from Lila's skin, Lorelei pulled her hand back in pain as a small toy car hit her. "Ow!"

The loud _clang_ of the car landing on the tiles, coupled with Lorelei's sudden jerking movement and exclamation, made the children both flinch in surprise, with Lila moving quickly to hug Clint's leg.

Natasha smirked at Lorelei. "Clint said no. Have you not heard the meaning of that word?"

The kids' eyes were wide as they silently watched the exchange between the adults.

"You are fired - we can't have a _violent_ maid around the kids! Right, Clinton?" Lorelei stated, rubbing her wrist.

Clint got _pissed_ \- even more than before- on Natasha's behalf. "Actually, _mother_ , we don't _have_ a maid. This is Natasha, my friend, and she's absolutely right. Thanks, by the way." He added to Nat.

Lorelei was visibly fuming, which Natasha apparently didn't notice. "Come on, kids - let's leave the grumpies to talk. Either of you want a banana and strawberry smoothie?"

Lila instantly perked up, Cooper two seconds after her. "Yes! Can I have blueberries in mine, too?" Lila asked eagerly, detaching from her father's leg and skipping into the kitchen with Cooper and Natasha. Clint smiled- he'd totally have to ask Natasha how she got them to eat fruits so easily. Sure, smoothies were special, but she could get them to eat raw tomatoes- a particularly hated fruit around the Barton household- if she chose to take up the task. He turned back to a simmering Lorelei. "Next time you try to take _my_ children without my permission, I just might report them as kidnapped. You might be family, but my authority is absolute when it comes to them." He said firmly, eyes boring into hers.

"I knew you were a bad father, and this just proves it - especially leaving them alone with that _violent_ woman." Lorelei spat out. "Now, if you've had enough of being childish and uncompassionate, maybe you can keep a better eye on your children and make up for ruining their day."

 _And maybe when you're done being evil and bitchy, you can try to make up for ruining my life!_ Clint frowned at her but didn't voice the tempting words. "I don't know… does it seem to like their day has been ruined, Lori?" He asked. "Because they seemed totally thrilled to see Nat and have her smoothies…"

"Well, obviously you are wearing rose-tinted glasses. Because I saw their faces drop dramatically when you told them they couldn't go - this silly little distraction won't last all day." Lorelei stated as she turned and strutted off upstairs.

Clint groaned and wandered into the kitchen to try and salvage his mood with Natasha smiling as she made the smoothies and the children laughing and enjoying themselves.

* * *

As much as he absolutely loathed to admit it, Lorelei was right- the kids soon lost their starry-eyed looks after finishing the smoothies ravenously and it wasn't long before Lila innocently asked, "Daddy, when _are_ we going to the zoo?" She looked so hopeful that he couldn't possibly break her heart.

"We'll _all_ go in two hours, alright?" He answered cheerfully. Cooper visibly brightened.

"Awesome! Thanks, Dad!" Clint smiled and ruffled his hair, turning to Nat.

"You gonna come?"

There was an almost silent scoff from her. "I don't do that sort of…" her voice lowered so the kids couldn't hear her, "family crap." Then it returned to normal volume. "I actually have a few errands to run, sorry. But you all have fun."

Clint almost rolled his eyes but nodded. "Alright, we will." Then he went to the foot of the stairs and shouted up, "Hey, Lorelei! We're going to the zoo in two hours! You coming?"

There was a disgruntled reply, but unfortunately, Lorelei agreed to go.

\line break.

The car ride to the nearest zoo was a tense affair, with Lorelei staring grumpily out the passenger side window and the kids awkwardly trying to engage her in conversations- none of which lasted for more than two minutes before falling flat. When they finally reached the zoo and waited ten minutes in line to pay for their tickets, there was a tense totally-not-an-argument-disguised-as-politeness over who would pay for them. In the end, Lorelei won and paid.

"Alright, now… what do you kiddos want to see first? The lions? The monkeys?"

"Fish! The fish!" Lila chirped.

"No!" Cooper instantly disagreed. "The lions! Or the foxes… or dinosaurs!" Lorelei sent Clint a 'what do you teach your son?' look.

"Coop, we've been over this- dinosaurs aren't alive anymore." Clint corrected Cooper gently.

"Oh, yeah…" Cooper said, tilting his head in slight embarrassment.

Lorelei was quick to put a hand on his shoulder. "Don't cry, Coop! Daddy's just being mean. He didn't mean to crush your dreams." Even though Cooper was neither crying nor anywhere near looking as though his dreams had been crushed. Clint rolled his eyes.

"However," he continued as if there had been no interruptions, "crocodiles are basically dinosaurs- they're close relatives of them. Wanna look at those? That way we can be close to the fish section, too, and we can go there after."

"No point feeding him lies, Clinton." Lorelei muttered.

Clint steadfastly ignored her and turned to take Lila's hand- except Lila was nowhere to be found. "Liles?" He called, trying not to sound too panicked. She was probably just looking at a nearby exhibit.

* * *

 _Natasha glanced away from the road at her phone, which was beeping a specific alert, and noticed it showed Lila twenty meters or more away from Clint. She pulled over - rather unsafely - and checked. If that Cruella De Vil had moved her, then murder was not off the table. However, upon seeing that the tracker she had put onto Lorelei showed she was within a meter of Clint and Cooper made her a little worried._

 _Quickly hacking into the zoo's security cameras, she used her tracker to locate Lila, who was now in a completely different exhibit from Clint. The only thankful thing was that she was too entranced by the birds to notice that the group she had obviously been following wasn't her family._

 _When she saw Clint slightly panicking in the other camera feed she was about to call him, until she saw that giddy and psychotic look on Cruella's face. She had spent the last few days making sure everything went smoothly for Clint- what's another little thing? She only hoped she was wrong in thinking that Lorelei noticed Lila leaving but didn't mention anything to teach Clint a 'lesson'._

* * *

Stay calm, Clint thought to himself. She couldn't have gone far- right? He really hoped not. Internally he was completely panicking, and he was fighting very hard to keep from expressing his panic externally, giving Lorelei ammunition with which to blow more holes in him. He took Cooper's hand just to be safe and scanned the crowd again, looking for any sign of her bobbing pigtails as she skipped from exhibit to exhibit with glee. He saw nothing and cursed her being so short. "Let's… look in the bathrooms. Lori, you go check and see if she's in there." He said as calmly as he could as if he was sure that it was nothing to worry about. He also didn't want Cooper starting to panic.

Lorelei rolled her eyes. "If you had been keeping an eye on her, none of this would have happened." She muttered, not so quietly, as she walked to the bathrooms.

While she did that, Clint approached some of the outdoor exhibits that were closest to them to see if the girl had just been overtaken by curiosity to see them. There were seven children pressed up against the glass of the tropical bird enclosure, but none of them were Lila. Only one child, a little boy, was at the peacock exhibit. There was a much larger crowd surrounding the ostrich enclosure further down, but a thorough search through it still left Clint and Cooper with no sign of Lila. They met back up with Lorelei, and Clint felt his gut drop even further when he saw she was alone. Either Lila had gone even further into the zoo than he'd thought possible in such a short time period, or someone had taken her _out_ of the zoo altogether. Clint decided that they'd search a little further in, and if there was still no sign of his daughter, they would start taking action considering the latter option- most likely calling the police. "She loves horses- maybe she went to the zebra exhibit." He suggested absently as they walked, eyes scanning over every person constantly.

"Dad, what if someone took her?" Cooper asked nervously, his grip on Clint's hand tightening. That gesture alone spoke volumes on how scared Cooper already was- he was going through a stage where publicly holding hands with his dad was the last thing he wanted to be seen doing, as it was 'uncool'. Clint squeezed his hand reassuringly.

"I don't think that's what happened." He half-lied. "She probably just got lost. We'll find her." Cooper nodded mutely and continued to search.

"Clinton-Darling," Lorelei started in a hushed, concerned tone, "maybe we should get some help."

"We got lollies!" Lila suddenly exclaimed- Clint whipped around to see as Natasha carried her over.

"It was supposed to be a surprise," Natasha muttered, tickling her sides.

Clint let out possibly the biggest breath of relief he'd ever had, laughing weakly. "Nat, I thought we'd agreed to meet up at the giraffe exhibit." He said, no anger in his tone. _Thank you_.

Natasha placed Lila down on the ground and handed Cooper his lolly. "We did, but I got here a little earlier and thought I'd walk around - then, seconds after I saw you, Lila came running over and I dropped the stuff in my bag everywhere!" She pointed down the side of one of the exhibits.

Ignoring Lorelei's spluttering, Clint made a disapproving sound at Lila, though it was weak. "Lila, you always tell me where you're going- always. Even if it's to see Nat. I didn't see her, so I didn't know she was with you- we were worried." He said as sternly as he could manage through his overwhelming relief.

"Yeah, Liles, we thought some bad guy had tooken you!" Cooper butted in, lips popping around the sucker.

Lila did not seem interested in the conversation as she sucked on her lolly. "Okay." She agreed.

With a sigh, Clint went to Natasha's side. "So, anything you wanted to see after we go to the fish?" He offered, hoping she could read the gratefulness oozing from him.

"My bed - I don't like zoos." She replied and gave a short nod before looking at Lorelei. "You're awfully quiet- cat got your tongue?"

The older woman snapped her mouth shut quickly before sending Natasha a glare. "I'm just amazed at the _irresponsible_ role models in these poor children's lives." She commented snidely, face reddening angrily.

"Oh, I know! Poor kids, being stuck with a grandmother like you! I feel so sorry for them too! Glad we're on the same page!" Natasha said _too_ chipperly before turning her back on Lorelei. "Fish, right?" She checked with Clint before taking the kids' hands and leading them off.

Clint almost laughed at the murderous expression on his mother-in-law's face. When it was turned on him, however, he just shrugged in a 'what're you gonna do?' way and strolled after the trio, wondering if maybe this episode would convince the woman to go home early. God, he hoped so.

* * *

Clint tucked Lila in, kissing her forehead. "Night; see you in the morning."

"Night, Daddy." She replied, snuggling herself under the covers and closing her eyes, ready to fall asleep.

Lorelei walked in, and even though she had already said goodnight, didn't mind interrupting. "How about Grandma Lori reads you a bedtime story?" She said.

Lila yawned but nodded her head eagerly.

"She's tired- just let her go to sleep."

Lorelei faced off with him. "Are you going to _deny_ your daughter spending a little more time with her _only_ grandmother? How much do you want to take away from her?"

"Take away from her?" Clint replied, completely unprepared for an attack in front of his daughter. "What exactly are you suggesting that I've taken away from her?"

"Her mother!" Lorelei spat back. "We both know it was your fault she died."

Clint couldn't believe what he was hearing; only this woman could say something as cold-blooded as that - but what threw him off his game was that he never thought she'd ever say something that distasteful in front of either of his children. "That's Ludacris - Laura died of cancer."

The woman across from him scoffed. "She was doomed the moment you came into her life. A real man would have noticed systems and gotten her help sooner! But you weren't even around enough to help raise the children."

Clint felt the blood leave his face- she'd hit a nerve, and the pleased look on her face showed that she knew it. If there was one thing he felt guilty about in his entire life, it was that he hadn't noticed Laura's symptoms earlier. Surely, if he'd just paid her more attention! If he'd _been_ there! However, having this monster of a woman accuse him of that very thing made him do something he had never done when he was beating himself up over this- defend himself. "The symptoms were subtle, Lorelei! Even _she_ hadn't noticed much wrong! The only reason we ever found out she had cancer was when she started throwing up blood and I had to take her to the ER! Before that, even if I had been here every waking moment, I would never have known what was going on!" He shouted, then stopped and sucked in a breath as he realised Lila was still in earshot- the vomiting blood was one detail that he had never intended for the children to know. She was pale and shaking, eyes wide, and Clint rushed over to her and pulled her into a hug, completely ignoring Lorelei for the moment. "Oh sweetheart, I'm sorry! I shouldn't have said that!" He apologised, running a shaking hand through her hair. She cried and buried her face in his shirt.

Natasha walked into the room with Lorelei's suitcase in her arms. "I think it's time for you to go." She stated, shoving the woman's clothes into the case.

"I am _not_ -"

"Let me rephrase that - get _out_." Natasha corrected coldly as she threw in the last items and zipped the case closed. She shoved it into the older woman's arms and physically forced her from the room. Clint could hear the older woman's protests getting quieter and quieter until there was a loud slam of the front door.

Lila physically flinched at the sound of the door, and Clint held her closer, whispering comforting words to her and hoping to never see that woman's face again.

It took an hour for him to get Lila to sleep- and that was only after Cooper climbed into bed with her and let her latch onto him. Once both were sound asleep, he trudged down the stairs and sank into a chair at the kitchen table. He hadn't heard from or seen any sign of Natasha since Lorelei was forcibly thrown from the house, and while he was a little worried that Nat might have killed her, he wasn't _too_ concerned with it. He sat with his head in his hands for a long time, sorting through his conflicted thoughts as a wound he'd thought was close to healing was now torn open savagely and bleeding freely.

* * *

 **Thank you for reading!**

 **Now, be honest with me, did you want me (And Violet) to continue, or do a closing arch?**


	25. The Aftermath

**Author's Note:**

 **Hello! Before I start with my usual round of thanks, I want to thank you for your patience (Wait, I said no thanks, lol). Violet and I are both pretty busy right now - my sister literally just got married, is buying a house and is pregnant (The pregnant thing was a surprise and surprisingly, didn't make then postpone their year planned wedding, lol). Violet is busy with... violet things, lol! Add that to our staggering six-hour time difference, things get difficult.**

 **Now, Violet and I have three main stories which we write together. So, please know we work as quickly as we can and your reviews really do help! Love you all!**

 **Talking about reviews, thank you so much to those who reviewed the previous chapter: Guest; MahhKayyLahhBarton; Amy Hamato; The Gothic Geek; grossly-sweet; Guest 13; Guest; Guest; Guest. There's a lot of Guests, lol! Give yourselves a little bit of a unique name please! I'd love that!**

* * *

Clint woke up that morning with a headache of the most epic proportions. Groaning, he sat up and massaged his temples, assaulted with memories of the argument from last night. He officially hated Lorelei - he was certain it would be years before he'd even consider having her visit again. If she wanted to see the kids, they could meet at a nice public restaurant and act civil for an hour. That was it.

How could she blame Clint for Laura's death the way she did? That kept darting through his mind no matter how much he tried to avoid actively thinking about the poison she'd spat at him. He almost agreed with her, in a deep, dark part of his mind, but a much bigger part of him was enraged at the thought that she could actually think that about him. She hadn't been there when Laura had dropped the laundry basket resting on her hip and threw up blood all over the kitchen floor. She hadn't felt the fear he had as he'd broken all the speed limits between their house and the nearest ER to get her help as quickly as possible, with Laura, pale and shaking beside him. She hadn't been there to grip Laura's hand as a diagnosis was made days later. She had no right to make such hateful, ignorant statements. And he hated Lorelei for that.

A glance at the clock told him that it was well past noon, meaning he really should get up and get the kids fed. Sighing, he rose from the bed, pulled on some clothes and trudged down the hall. However, upon peeking into both of their rooms, he found Cooper and Lila to be absent. Confused- the kids never woke up on their own on days when they could sleep in- he went downstairs. Whispering voices led him to the kitchen, and his heart clenched at the sight of Cooper struggling with the toaster to try and make them both some food. He was getting more independent, but he was still a little too small to use the toaster or reach the cabinets. "Hey, kiddos. Why didn't you wake me up? I can make you breakfast- well, lunch." He announced his presence as gently as he could, hoping that if he sounded casual enough, they could pretend the disaster of the previous night hadn't happened.

Cooper wouldn't meet his eyes, looking at the floor. "Well, we thought you'd need lots of sleep… so I was makin' Liles some waffles…" He explained quietly. Clint sighed and went over to his son, ruffling his hair.

"I appreciate the thought, Coop, but it's alright- I'm the parent here, so you don't have to worry about me. How about I make you both some food?" They nodded, Cooper happily handing over toaster duty and sitting on the barstool beside his sister. Once they were both eating, Clint made himself a single egg- he found he didn't have much of an appetite. He sat and ate with them, trying to strike up cheerful conversations without mentioning their horrible grandmother.

After they'd eaten, he was tempted to send them off to play as he usually did- except that he really wanted to be with them right now. "Hey, whaddya say we watch that pirates movie you guys have been wanting to see?"

"Awesome!" Lila exclaimed, and he couldn't help but smile. He set up the movie and they all curled up on the couch, Clint enjoying the closeness to the two gifts he and Laura would always share.

* * *

Natasha was right- going on a 'stupid date' _did_ help lift his spirits and take his mind off of Lorelei Henry and all of her bitchiness. It was nice to do something with Nat that normal couples typically did- dinner, seeing a movie… Even though the movie wasn't exactly the best for romance, as the action sequences were so intense that they could barely tear their eyes from the screen, let alone _interact_ with each other at all.

"Overall, the acting was good- except for that guy who played General Michaels. He looked constipated all the time." Clint was commenting with a chuckle as they leisurely walked to the parking garage and the car. It was a beautiful starry night, and the weather was pleasantly warm. He took a deep breath of the crisp night air, letting it out in a relaxed _whoosh_.

Natasha shrugged. "Maybe he had a stick up his ass." She suggested _way_ too casually.

He burst into laughter at the sheer randomness of it. "No, if anyone had a stick up their ass, it was Major Richards…" He thought over that for a moment before bursting into laughter all over again. "Oh my gosh- he's a Major Dick!"

"I wonder if he had a major dick?" Natasha inputted again, definitely not holding back, although she was smiling pretty widely. "Major Davidson reminded me of you, you know- almost dying every five minutes but somehow staying alive."

Clint laughed again. "What about Nurse Moore? She was totally you! 'Sir, if you don't let me treat this wound, I will ensure the other leg is unusable as well.' That lady was a total badass!"

Natasha wrinkled her nose up in disgust. "Ew. No." She didn't even provide a reason why.

"What? W-" He was cut off by a scream emanating from one of the far corners of the parking garage just as they entered. He and Nat instantly shared a look and together they sprinted for the source of the scream. A young woman was crouched against the wall, arms up to try and block the vicious blows coming from a giant of a man standing above her.

"If you just stayed quiet and let it happen, this wouldn't be a problem!" The man was growling at her, to which the woman screamed louder.

Natasha almost instantly jumped into action, her footsteps silent as she approached and jumped the guy from behind - her legs wrapped around his body and she flipped him at least six feet to the left, but she didn't stop there as she approached him, her smirk building as he began to badmouth her. There were a few seconds of no movement until the man launched an attack on her - but he only lasted five seconds before being rendered unconscious on the floor.

Clint was totally content to let Natasha handle that- her tiny build made her easily taking down huge opponents a really amusing sight. He went and knelt beside the woman on the ground, who was shaking and whimpering. "Are you alright, Ma'am?" She shakily nodded and he helped her to her feet. A few nasty bruises were forming on her face and arms, but nothing appeared to be broken and she didn't seem concussed. Still, they ended up calling her a cab since she was too shaken up to drive anywhere, and with several final cries of thanks, she was gone. Clint turned to Natasha, who was handcuffing the still unconscious attacker. "Well, _that_ was a unique date night."

"Best date ever," Natasha commented with a smile bigger than he had seen in awhile. "Thanks."

Clint smirked. "I'll have to remember this the next time I take you on a date."

* * *

 **Thank you very much for reading! Sorry, it was a short chapter!**

 **Let me know what you thought :D**


	26. Normal things

**Author's Note:**

 **Hello! A few things to say:**

 **Firstly, my apologies about not replying to the reviews - I read every single one of them! I promise you, and they mean a lot to me!**

 **Secondly, this story has been moved down in priority, unfortunately, over the past few weeks - but I love the story and will never give it up! And due to this, the updates are awful! But, I've done the hellish week and weekend and did my best to keep them up. And have now constructed a good story arc - and for now, the updates will be more regular but with shorter chapters. This helps so much with planning and executing the plan right now. Hope you're all okay with that.**

 **Thirdly, love you all!**

* * *

Natasha almost painfully twisted her fingers as she regretted every decision she had ever made in her entire life. When she had left behind the KGB and all of her conditioning to go with Clint, she'd never expected to be put in _this_ situation. Taking a deep breath, she looked for every possible escape strategy - but knew there wasn't one. Carefully, she sized up every single person in sight but had to force herself to _not_ glare at them - they weren't the enemy and this was a normal situation. A normal situation. _A normal situation._

Her eyes flew up to the doors as they opened but knew instantly that these children were too old to be Cooper's or Lila's classes. Waiting for these two children to get out of school was more nerve-wracking than she could imagine. What if they didn't want to go with her? You couldn't pick up a child and walk off with them - especially the first time you were picking them up - but she had no choice. Clint's two nannies weren't available - one on holiday for a week, the other having broken her ankle this morning. But that was fine, Bobbi was looking after the children and dropping them off whilst Clint was on his 'super important mission'. However, Clint was supposed to pick up his children, but was still not back from the mission.

Natasha wasn't able to get in touch with Bobbi and there was nobody she knew who could pick them up. But, the worst part was, she had no idea why Clint was late and just _knew_ something had gone wrong on the mission. There was no way he wouldn't answer her calls after _fifteen_ of them!

So, that brought her here, hoping that there wouldn't be a problem, and hoping they wouldn't ask where 'Daddy' was.

Her eyes flashed almost deadly when a woman approached her. "Hello, I'm Amanda! I haven't seen you around here before."

Natasha sized her up quickly - shorter than average, but taller than Natasha, brown hair - obviously dyed - brown eyes and in typical soccer mom comfortable clothing. "Yes, I'm picking up Lila and Cooper Barton."

"Oh! Are you a nanny?" Amanda asked - she must know all of the gossip regarding the parents by knowing who usually picked up the kids.

There was a second of slight panic at the question as Natasha knew this was real life- she couldn't make an elaborate lie. "I'm just a friend of Clint's." She said with a small - only slightly forced - smile.

Amanda's interest grew ever so slightly more than it had already been. "Really? That's great." She paused. "That's my boy, now- nice meeting you … oh, sorry, I didn't catch your name."

As much as she wanted to inform the other woman that the reason she didn't 'catch her name' was because she hadn't provided one, she decided to just give it. "Natasha."

"Natasha," Amanda repeated. "Bye!" She said before walking off and picking up her son - literally.

Not even a few seconds passed before Lila ran up to her with excitement. "Nat! Hi!"

"Hello, Lila." She looked around for Cooper before turning her attention back to the five-year-old girl. "How was school?"

"Great! We drawed and coloured and did 1, 2, 3!" Lila happily told her as she held out her backpack for Natasha. After a second of confusion, Natasha accepted the backpack and wondered what she was supposed to do with it - but Lila just thanked her and continued to tell her, in detail, what she did at school. Time flew after that and soon Cooper came out too, also happy to see her. Both children went with her without any questions as to why she was picking them up - which she felt was strange but wasn't going to argue.

When they got back to Clint's house, they happily followed her instructions to eat a banana and start their homework. As they did that she called Clint's phone - no answer - and then Coulson's. Finally, she found out what was going on. Yes, Clint's mission was taking longer, but he was fine and was now on his way back to base - he needed to be debriefed and should be home in under four hours. Which meant she only had to solely look after the children for four hours - it couldn't be that hard…

"Nat - how do you spell flower?" Cooper asked her from the table, having only taken one bite of his banana before laying it on the table next to him.

"F-L-O-W-E-R," Natasha answered after hanging up the call and walking over to them. She noted that Lila was still eating her banana and hadn't gotten out any work, but decided to focus on Cooper for now. "Why?"

Cooper pointed to his worksheet. "I gotta learn it. Help me?"

Natasha looked down at the sheet, seeing twelve words he needed to learn, and picked it up - she needed to know what he already knew. "How about I test you first?" When Cooper nodded, she decided to start with one of the other words first. "Water."

Cooper's face was one of utter concentration before he correctly spelt it - although he did need prompting.

The next half an hour Natasha spent helping Cooper with his assigned words and giving Lila some easier three-letter words to spell - especially upon realising that Lila was told to learn how to count. It was easier to just do spelling with both of them - there was always time for counting later.

And later came when it was time for dinner, Cooper had asked a few times to play his video games, yet Lila just wanted to play the 'spelling game' with Natasha. Which made things easier. Natasha allowed Cooper to play in the lounge and enlisted Lila to help with dinner.

"Lila - Can you get me ten little bowls?" Natasha asked, and with determination and utter concentration, Lila carefully counted ten little bowls and brought them to Nat. "Well done! Now… in the first bowl, can you put one piece of pasta? Then in the second bowl, two pieces? And in the third…"

"Three!"

Natasha nodded enthusiastically. "Yes! And the fourth, four…" She continued all the way up to ten in the tenth bowl. Whilst keeping a close eye on Lila, she began to make the sauce for the pasta - even though she needed to wait for Lila to finish counting them out before she could cook the pasta.

After nearly ten minutes, Lila was finally happy that it was all correct and when informed that it _was_ all correct, turned into the happiest and proudest little girl Natasha had ever seen. It was easier to get Lila out of the kitchen by giving her the 'reward' of playing with Cooper.

Dinner went past and all of the dishes were washed, but now this was uncharted territory - Natasha realised she didn't actually know what happened at this time of the day. As far as she could remember, it wasn't the kids' bedtime yet and she was not comfortable giving them baths at all. It had barely been over two hours, which meant there was the possibility of another two hours without Clint. "Well, go and play." She told them confidently - although on the inside, she was clueless.

The children grinned and ran off - that wasn't the right thing if they were pleasantly surprised, damn it. However, Natasha quickly decided she would rather they played from now until past their bedtime than have to do bathtime. She just hoped Clint didn't mind when he got home.

The next hour and a half went by and Natasha was starting to get anxious. Even though there was another half an hour until she expected him, Clint hadn't called her - which she had been expecting the second he finished his mission - after all, she had left him a _lot_ of calls and voice messages. Which meant he might not be back when she had been told and his children were still playing, neither of them seeming to tire.

She didn't have to wait long before threatening Clint with a gun as he walked through the door - how could she know it was sure to be him?

"Finally." She breathed, almost falling back onto the couch with relief as she lowered her gun. "Kids are playing upstairs." She added as an afterthought.

Clint's eyes were wide but he sighed with relief. "Oh, thank God. Coulson told me you'd picked the kids up, but I was still worried… Thank you _so_ much." He said genuinely as he put his coat and shoes away. "I'll get them into bed- you can help yourself to the 'adult beverages' cabinet, if you'd like." And then he disappeared up the stairs.

Natasha didn't need to be offered twice - or once; she was planning on drinking his alcohol anyway - and instantly retrieved her favourite. She only briefly wondered when he had bought her favourite drink- it hadn't been there last time- but shrugged off the thought and poured her drink before grabbing him one and returning the couch. She had already refilled her drink twice when he returned. "Both asleep?"

He stretched a few kinks from his arms and let out a content sigh as he sank into the seat beside her. "I hope so- Lila was drifting off last I checked and Cooper passed out as soon as his head hit the pillow. I really don't want to deal with them spontaneously waking up in the middle of the night." He commented, gratefully accepting the drink she offered him. "Did they give you any trouble?"

"Nope, they were very well behaved. No problems at all." Natasha replied; there was no way in hell she was going to tell him that even though on the surface things went smoothly, she was nearly shitting herself the entire time. And she definitely couldn't tell him that there was no way she would ever willingly to this again - she just hoped it never came up. "What happened with the mission?" She enquired.

Clint groaned and massaged the bridge of his nose. "It was a disaster, quite honestly. My partners didn't know what 'stealth' meant, three of them broke their comms within the first half hour, and I'm honestly surprised that there was only one casualty- and that I wasn't one."

Natasha was so glad that most of her missions were solo - she dreaded the thought of being paired up with a useless partner. Then again, she did have to go on the odd partnered or teamed mission. "Drink." She semi-ordered, not quite sure what to say about the mission being that much of a disaster - she wasn't one to talk about other agents, anyway- it was just so boring.

"Gladly." He obeyed orders and took a large gulp of his drink. Then he held his glass up. "Here's to never going on missions with idiots again."

She clinked her glass with him before taking a large swig. It wasn't long before they both needed refills.

* * *

 **Thank you for reading!**

 **Love you all! And Violet says hi too! :D**


	27. Mission focused

**Author's Note:**

 **Hello! I feel like I am starting to get my head a bit more organised with posting chapters!**

 **Thank you so much to the three amazing reviewers for the last chapter! So, thanks to MahhKayyLahhBarton; Guest Crueilla; Guest.**

* * *

Natasha's main attention was on her laptop, filling out the mission brief - it had been a very short and easy mission, one that she'd usually attempt to get out of. But she knew that she needed to make friends and earn her own respect and allies within S.H.I.E.L.D. With Clint only being half the agent he was, his respect within S.H.I.E.L.D had gone down - in fact, half the agents thought he was on a long undercover mission - and that didn't bode well for either of them… well, mission-wise.

This meant that Natasha needed to show S.H.I.E.L.D that she could play nice and do all of these stupid missions for them to earn their respect and create a good reputation for herself. If she was lucky, she'd get a good mission soon.

The last month for her had really gone by in a blur - with missions and training with other agents at S.H.I.E.L.D, she hadn't spent a great deal of time with Clint. Thankfully, he was understanding. So, times like these, when they were just hanging out on his couch, were crucial to take advantage of. But if she didn't get this mission report in within a few hours of her mission, then she'd have to rethink her actions.

She didn't have much more to write when she felt Clint shift on the couch beside her. "You alright?" She asked, looking at him as she blind-typed the extraction.

He was eyeing the news broadcast on the TV carefully. "Something about this Stark guy seems… off. He's being very shifty. He's definitely hiding something." He observed, gesturing to the man on the screen. "For a playboy billionaire who has probably millions of secrets, he's a terrible liar."

Natasha glanced over at the screen; she knew that Stark was being kept under a tight watch after disappearing and reappearing - she was pretty sure S.H.I.E.L.D felt like he was working with somebody. Typical rich douchebag. "He makes bombs for a living - maybe he's selling them to our enemies." She suggested casually as she finished her sentence and turned her attention back to her laptop to read through it.

Clint watched the TV silently for a few more minutes before blurting rather cheerfully, "Oh, wait, he's about to spill something! I know that look!" He almost sounded excited- then again, who _wouldn't_ want to hear what someone like Tony Stark was hiding?

Natasha sent her report and looked back at the TV. "Let's hope it's something interesting,"

Interesting it was. "I am Iron Man." Tony Stark announced, the press collectively going wild. Clint looked at her, wide-eyed. "Okay, I wasn't quite expecting _that_." He admitted. "I mean, I guess it kinda makes sense- you'd need lots of money to make suits like Iron Man's."

Natasha looked at the screen with utter indifference. No doubt SHIELD had already suspected. But, at the end of the day, she didn't care what Stark was doing - he was none of her concern, so she turned to Clint. "I'm all finished up; what are we doing for the night?"

He tore his gaze from the screen and shrugged. "We could… watch a movie?" He suggested lamely, the question clearly having caught him off guard. "Or… uh…"

"I am not spending tonight watching a movie," Natasha stated. Seriously, she didn't want to waste time with him doing something as pointless as watching a fictional movie - she didn't understand how people were so obsessed with it. She preferred to stay in the real world, not the fantasy world.

Clint rolled his eyes. "Fine, fine. What did _you_ have in mind?"

Natasha thought for a moment. "Something to bring us closer, like working out or cleaning the house." She paused. "Or, obviously, sex." She added even though she was pretty sure he knew that was already an option.

He smiled and leant closer to her. "I think the answer to that is obvious." He replied, pressing his lips to hers.

This was her preferred choice, of course, and as she had the morning off tomorrow - like Clint, not that she'd tell him she had planned that specifically - they could do a work out then. Watching him all sweaty and wrestling with him was a lot of fun. But, first things first, getting this guy all over her. Working out can definitely wait. She pulled him down to her, making sure they weren't going to even consider heading upstairs. No point wasting time climbing those stairs and sneaking past the kids' rooms.

* * *

Clint knew this would suck from the very beginning - from past experience, he knew he'd be walking back out of the doctor's office with at least four new bruises, a pounding headache, and a screaming daughter. Still, Lila was due for her flu vaccination, so this needed to be done. He'd told her about this doctor's visit the day before and told her that if she was brave, they'd get ice cream afterwards, and she'd promised she'd behave. However, he knew that when the time actually came, all of that self-control would go right out the window. Lila _despised_ shots.

After checking in, Clint and the kids went to the waiting room, where Lila instantly began pacing, visibly getting more anxious with each passing minute.

"Dad, is it true that tensing your muscles makes shots hurt even worse?" Cooper asked innocently. Clint groaned internally, wondering why his son just _had_ to bring anything shot-related up. Lila looked at him curiously, biting her lip.

"Well, in some cases, yes. The shot goes-" He cut himself off when Lila's eyes got as big as saucers. "Liles, as long as you stay calm, everything will be fine."

"Yeah, Li! It's all good!" Cooper added, shooting his father a regretful look. Clint put a hand on his shoulder to reassure him that he wasn't mad.

The nurse came out and called Lila's name, so Clint stood and ushered his daughter into the back, going into an exam room they were assigned. The nurse, Joy, took Lila's vitals before going to grab the supplies she'd need- and probably some backup, too; Joy had taken a painful kick to the shoulder last time she'd tried giving Lila a shot without anyone there to restrain the girl.

"Do you want to sit in my lap?" Clint offered Lila as she got teary-eyed with anxiety. Her behavior would be a pain to all those experiencing it, but in the end, she was just scared.

"Mm-hm." She answered quietly, climbing into his lap and squeezing his hand. He wrapped his arms around her and gave her a strong hug while Cooper rubbed her head, trying his best to be helpful.

Unsurprisingly, Joy came back, accompanied by Berniece, the strongest nurse Clint had ever seen. Joy calmly took out an alcohol swab and began rubbing Lila's upper arm with it, but once the scent hit the girl's nose, she was panicking, squirming in Clint's embrace. Clint held her tighter to help keep her still, while Berniece took the arm and held it out so Joy could actually have access to it. Lila shrieked and tried to yank her arm from the nurse's grip and curl herself around it, like last time, but Berniece was prepared and kept the arm in place while Clint held down Lila's other arm to keep her from hitting, scratching, or in any way assaulting the woman.

Joy had thankfully learned from past experiences to approach from the side instead of the front and was thus able to avoid getting kicked in the gut or shoulder. The whole time, Clint, Joy, and even Berniece were murmuring soothing words to the child as she started to cry, kicking her legs, her heels painfully connecting with Clint's shins.

"Lemme _go! Lemme go_!" She screamed.

"You're doing fine, Pumpkin. Try to relax so this will be easier." Joy advised, prepping the syringe. Lila took one look at the long needle and doubled her efforts to escape, clenching her eyes shut, screaming herself hoarse.

Then the needle went in, the plunger was pressed, the vaccination was administered, and it was done. Lila finally started to calm once Joy pressed a Mickey Mouse bandaid on the injection site and declared her to be finished with her shots. Lila, sniffling, accepted the sucker Berniece handed her, but refused to take her hand from her father's until they were in the car.

"I hate it when they shoot me." Lila grumped from the backseat as Clint drove to the nearest restaurant that served ice cream- she hadn't behaved as she'd promised, but he could tell she had definitely put effort into it this time. And at least he hadn't had to carry her to the car like last time. Also, he wanted to put a bit of a positive perspective to these doctor's visits so hopefully she'd continue to do better each time she needed a shot.

Clint chuckled at the phrasing- she'd called it 'shooting' since she was three, and with her reactions to it, it certainly fit. He remembered the check-up he'd taken her to when she was four, a few weeks after a particularly traumatic appointment for vaccine updates, and she'd cried, upon walking into the exam room, "Don't shoot me!" The doctors had certainly gotten a laugh out of it. "Well, at least you're all up-to-date for the year, now." He consoled. Her frown deepened to a comically unnatural degree and she crossed her arms, but didn't sass him- she was smart enough not to risk her ice cream.

"Don't worry, Liles," Cooper said, "I used to hate shots, too, but now that I'm big, they're not scary anymore. You'll think so too when you're older."

Lila shook her head. "I'm always gonna hate shots! Even when I'm an adult!" She declared. "But when I'm an adult, I'm gonna tell them they're not allowed to give me shots, 'cuz I'll be old enough to make decisions."

Sometimes Clint wondered if Lila would try to conquer the world when she was an adult- with her determination to be in charge of everything, he was sure she'd be a force to reckon with.

* * *

Natasha was honestly surprised when she was sent on an undercover mission - sure, she had gone on several undercover missions for S.H.I.E.L.D., but not in a long time. She didn't expect something with that degree of importance to be given to her. Right now, she did not know what S.H.I.E.L.D was doing with her - but she'd play their game.

Then, finding out that it was only a few days at a conference was actually intriguing - she had never gone on a mission like this and had never gone to a conference either.

Fury had told her that if this mission went well, then they might have a longer undercover mission in store for her. She could only guess what it'd be - but, seeing as they were testing her more academically and weren't getting her to use her body was really telling her something. Fury was almost like a father to her - _almost_ \- and even though they didn't see each other a lot anymore, there was a time. When she and Clint were strong with the missions, they dealt directly with Fury for at least half of them - and this meant that they were really important and high-level missions. In fact, she'd been doing some level 6 missions. But since Clint took a step-down, they had been level 2, and occasionally level 3 - that annoyed Natasha, because she was level 4, at least. It took a lot of work to get to this level, so she hated being underappreciated.

However, now with Fury giving her missions again, she finally felt like she was on the right track again! Sure, they had spoken on a semi-regular basis and recently she knew that Fury had sent the mission, but this was the first time she was called to his office and given the mission personally. If she was a more affectionate person, she would have hugged him.

* * *

 **Thank you for reading!**

 **I am only six reviews away from a hundred and that is really exciting! I'd love if you were able to help me out! :D**


	28. Coming back after a short trip

Clint almost pounced on his phone when his text alert went off, earning himself a few strange looks from Cooper and Lila, who he'd just fed lunch. "Work stuff." He answered the unspoken question, quickly reading the text. Natasha had just gotten back to the base - her mission should have lasted only two days, but she'd started it four days ago. He shot off a short answer to let her know he was able to talk, then excused himself from the kitchen and went up to his room. He dialled her number and sat on the bed, waiting for her to answer.

"I only have a few minutes," Natasha answered with. "How's everything with you?"

"Everything's fine. Nat, why did the mission take so long?" He asked, concern bubbling in his gut. She usually wasn't one to let missions drag on too long.

"They just needed me to stay under for longer, that's all," she replied nonchalantly. "I have a debriefing in a few minutes, then I should be free."

Clint nodded to himself. "Alright. Wanna drop in over here? The kids have been dying to see you - and I'm getting rather lonely." He said slightly teasingly.

"Poor little Clint," Natasha teased. "But sure, I'll see what I can do; it depends on how long the debriefing will be, though - Lila and Cooper might already be in bed."

"Then you might just have to spend the night." He suggested, hoping she could hear his eyebrows waggling through his exaggerated tone.

There was a light chuckle down the phone and he could imagine her rolling her eyes at him. "We'll see - but there's a very high probability of that."

Clint laughed. "I look forward to it."

"I'll catch you later," Natasha said before the line went dead - implying she had hung up on him.

Clint tossed the phone onto the bedside table and sighed happily.

* * *

Natasha hoped that Clint wasn't tired because she honestly felt like she could stay up all night with the amount of energy she currently had. In a way, she felt like her entire life was falling together - not that she expected it to last - but for now, she was pretty happy with it. So, after parking the car and walking up to the house, she hoped she wasn't going to be disappointed with a tired Clint - not that she was expecting that.

Even though she had entered the house several times without permission or Clint's knowledge, she still knocked. Something about him expecting her made it too predictable that she'd just let herself in.

The door opened ten seconds later. "Finally! I was starting to think you got a flat tire on the way." Clint said teasingly, clearly very happy to see her. "Kids are in bed, so you'll definitely have to stay the night if you want to see them tomorrow morning."

Natasha felt her eyes roll automatically - as if a flat tire would have slowed her down. "I got caught up talking to somebody, that's all." She said, stepping into the house and pushing the door closed. "Who said I was here for the kids, anyway?" She questioned, pressing a kiss to his lips.

Clint's hands instantly wrapped around her midsection, holding her to him. They parted for a few seconds and when he started to undo her clothing she went with it - usually, he wanted to do the 'talking thing' first. But she wasn't complaining at all - in fact, she was pleased that he was finally thinking her way - sex first, then talking if needed.

* * *

Natasha's hand moved before she even registered that it was morning and turned Clint's alarm off. But, even if they weren't supposed to be getting up now, she was already awake and wouldn't be going back to sleep anytime soon. "I don't think I've really been here for a school morning routine." She commented.

He groaned as he sat up and stretched. "Well, you've _really_ been missing out." He replied with a chuckle. "First, someone has to basically drag Lila out of bed - she takes a long time to fully wake up." He stood and pulled on a clean set of clothes. "Would you mind getting Coop up while I handle Sleeping Grouchy?"

Natasha pondered on his request for a moment; she loved a challenge and wanted to wake up Lila, just to see how grouchy she was, but decided to just go to Coop. "Sure." She agreed, sliding out of bed and quickly changing and heading to the door. "We'll reconvene in the kitchen," she guessed.

"Roger that," Clint replied in a mock-mission voice. She could almost hear his stupid little smirk. As he went into Lila's room, he instantly became quiet, calm. "Hey, Liles. Time to wake up." He said gently. As Natasha entered Cooper's room she heard a very distinctive " _Shuddup_!" from down the hall and Clint exasperatedly trying to reign in his grumpy little daughter.

She chuckled to herself as she watched Cooper peacefully sleeping in his bed. However, his little nose wrinkled up at Lila's grumpy voice and he rolled over onto his front, obviously trying to go back to sleep. "Nu-uh, it's morning time." She informed him.

Cooper rolled onto his back pretty quickly at looked up at her, shocked - although there was something off about the look he gave her - but he nodded. "Okay, Natasha, I'm up."

Natasha gave him a smile and actually felt pretty out of place - next time she'd prefer Grumpy. "I'll go make some breakfast - what did you want?"

"Just cereal," Cooper replied as he sat up sleepily.

"Alright, see you in a few minutes," Natasha replied before walking out of his room and down the stairs to the kitchen. It was only when she was down there did she see that there was more than one type of cereal and for the life of her, she just couldn't remember what Cooper usually had - so she just waited patiently.

Lila stomped in five minutes later, closely followed by Clint, hairbrush in his hand. "Liles, hold still." He scolded as she plopped into a seat at the counter but refused to let him brush her rat's nest of hair. She clamped her arms over the top of her head.

"No! It hurts, Daddy! Don't brush it!" She screeched. She was sloppily dressed in a pink skirt and a wrinkled white t-shirt, clearly showing the struggle Clint had gone through to wrestle the damn things onto her.

"Lila, what do you want for breakfast?" Natasha asked the grumpy girl, hoping to get an answer so she at least felt slightly useful right now.

Lila's scowl at her father transformed into a look of surprise - clearly, she hadn't been aware of Natasha's presence in the room - maybe even that she had been in the house at all. "Nat! You're back!" She exclaimed happily, foul mood forgotten. "Can I have one of your pancakes? They're the _best_!"

"Only if you cooperate with getting ready for school," Clint interjected. Lila frowned and let out a sigh of defeat.

"Fine." She was quiet and didn't fight Clint as he finally was able to brush her hair.

Natasha quickly got to work on her pancakes, thrilled to have something she could actually do here. She might have shown off a little too much with flipping the pancakes, making Lila laugh and clap before giving her one. She made a few more - for her and Clint and if Cooper changed his mind.

When Cooper did come down, looking a lot more put together than Lila, he greeted them and got his own cereal and milk. And even though he spilt some of the milk when pouring it, he didn't ask for any help.

"Sleep well, Coop?" Clint asked kindly as he sorted through a laundry basket in search of a clean pair of socks for Lila. The boy nodded, mouth full of cereal, and Clint chuckled. "Well, good. Liles, did you sleep well?"

"Uh-huh! I had this dream about pandas, and Coop was there, and you were there - and Nat was there too!" The girl exclaimed excitedly. "We were playing tag, and it was _super_ fun! Oh! Natasha, can we play today?"

Natasha nodded, quickly swallowing her mouthful of pancakes. "I'm sure after school we can play - sure."

Clint brought the socks over to Lila, but, when it was clear she was nowhere near done eating, he sighed and began pulling them onto her feet himself. He perked up as an idea clearly came to him. "How about we all go to the park after school?" He offered.

Lila beamed. "Yeah! I wanna show Nat my monkey swings!" She turned to Natasha directly. "I've been practicing!"

"And we could play hide-and-seek, or tag, too!" Cooper chipped in as he put his bowl in the sink.

"I can't wait for all of that," Natasha replied brightly.

Clint stood then, and, seeing that Lila was pushing her plate away, he clapped his hands, getting both children's attention. "Alright, kiddos, let's get our shoes on!" He instructed. Cooper quickly did as told while Lila took a little longer, having a few fumbles with the velcro straps before she finally was done, looking proud. "Are we all ready?" Two nods. "Alright, let's get into the car!" The kids grabbed their backpacks and ran outside. Clint paused in the doorway, looking at Natasha. "I'll be back soon - then we can find something to do until school's over." He promised, closing the door behind himself. Soon there was the sound of the car starting and then driving away.

Natasha looked around and, deciding that she wasn't going to work out this morning, left the mess she had made and returned to Clint's bed.

* * *

Clint chuckled as Lila all but threw her backpack into the trunk of the car when they came to pick them up after school before hurrying to climb into her car seat and buckle herself up. She was so excited that she couldn't quite get it, so Cooper leaned over and helped her. Clint shared a small smile with Natasha before looking at the kids through the rearview mirror. "Alright, are we ready to have some fun?" He asked.

Lila basically jumped in her seat with happiness. "Let's go, let's go, let's go!" She cried, clapping loudly.

"We're ready!" Cooper exclaimed simultaneously.

"Well let's go, then!" Clint said, pushing excitement into his voice and smiling at the jovial noises the kids made. As soon as he parked the car by the entrance to the park, the kids were jumping out and sprinting over to the playground equipment. Clint and Natasha followed at a much more relaxed pace. "This is the perfect weather for this." He commented as a light breeze blew through his hair.

Natasha nodded in agreement. "Do you take them to this park often?" She inquired.

"Sure do - it's their absolute favourite." He replied with a fond smile. "Coop _loves_ the tire swing, and Lila is addicted to the monkey bars." As they approached the play equipment, the kids were exactly where he'd said they would be - Cooper making himself hopelessly dizzy on the tire swing and Lila hanging upside-down from the lower set of monkey bars. Clint felt his stomach lurch slightly at the sight, but she'd done this plenty of times before and, even if she did fall, the ground wasn't too far away to the point where she'd end up getting hurt beyond a bruise or two. He led the way to the nearest bench, one he had sat on many times - it offered a perfect view of ninety percent of the play area.

"Daddy, look at me!" Lila cried.

"I see that! Good job!" He praised. Lila looked at Natasha, seated beside him, and beamed.

"Natasha, watch this!" She shouted proudly before grabbing the bar beside her, dropping her legs from the bar she'd hung from, and swinging until her legs were hooked around another bar before letting go with her hands and hanging upside-down again. Clint was _so_ glad he'd put her hair up - it would have been a tangled mess by now otherwise.

Natasha clapped. "That's so good! Soon you'll be able to walk _on_ the bars!"

Lila, face red from being upside-down for so long, looked awed. "Really? Show me!" She cried eagerly, beckoning the woman over. Clint laughed at the expression on Natasha's face.

"You can if you want to, you know - it's not like there's anyone else here." He gestured to the otherwise abandoned playground. Most of the local kids were probably hanging out at the new playground down the road.

Natasha looked at Clint with contemplation before standing up and walking over to the monkey bars.

Once Natasha had left Clint alone, he soon found his attention on his son, who had approached him. "Hey Dad," he started, but then didn't continue as he looked at his father expectantly.

Clint smiled kindly and patted the bench beside him for Cooper to sit down. The boy did so, staring off into the distance for a while, kicking his legs distractedly. "What's eating at you, Coop?" Clint asked conversationally, internally praying that it wasn't something severe.

Cooper's gaze settled on Lila and Natasha- _how did she manage to hold on with just one finger? -_ and he sighed. "When are we going back to the farm?" Clint frowned down at him, eyebrows furrowed.

"What do you mean? You want a vacation so early into the school year?" Clint still owned the farmhouse - it was too handy in case of a situation where they needed to go into hiding to sell - but they didn't live in it anymore; it was more of a vacation house that they only went to stay in a few times a year when they wanted to get away from the hustle and bustle of the busy little city.

Cooper shook his head, finally making eye contact. "No, I mean when are we going home? We've been away for a _really_ long time." Clint's heart sank a little bit.

"Son, we're not on some long vacation - the fact that I'm sending you to school should be proof enough of that. We left the farmhouse so you and your sister could go to school and be in public places again." Because relaxing on keeping the kids in hiding while still at the farmhouse, thus risking its location being revealed, wasn't an option. It was still their hidden little bunker to retreat to if they needed to vanish again.

The boy shrugged, sagging a little. "Oh. Right. I guess I just can't make myself think that anywhere else from the farm is home." He admitted, looking at the ground.

Letting out a sigh, Clint put his arm around Cooper's shoulders and gave him a little squeeze. "I know you miss your mother; and that farmhouse is one of the biggest connections you have to her, right?" After all, that farmhouse was where Laura had birthed both of them, it's where she'd raised them almost on her own while Clint was an active agent, and it was where a majority of the children's fleeting memories of her laid.

Cooper nodded, a small jerk of the head. "Yeah… but I just… I like it there better, too... I want to be there even though Mom isn't." Clint's frown deepened.

"You don't like living here?" He asked, concerned. He'd been under the impression that the kids were perfectly happy with their new home and town.

"Well… not as much." Cooper confessed, finding his toes suddenly very interesting. "It just doesn't feel like _home_."

Clint couldn't help the small stare he aimed at Cooper's head. "Why haven't you said anything before now?" He asked, shocked.

A shrug. "I didn't want to make you feel bad…"

Natasha was hanging from the bars by her ankles when Clint raised his gaze to check up on them, her arms crossed casually over her stomach to subtly ensure her shirt didn't drop down and make her accidentally flash the kids. Clint had to stifle a small chuckle at that, but the distraction proved short-lived and the frown returned as he looked back down at the back of Cooper's head as the boy propped his head on his hands, staring at the ground anxiously.

"Coop, I moved us to the city so you and Lila could socialise with other children - that's an important part of growing up. As is going to school, the other main reason we moved." He explained as patiently as he could, mind reeling. One of the kids wasn't happy here - did the other feel the same?

Cooper once again shrugged. "But we did school at home and we can see other children too at home… I mean the farm."

Clint nodded along distractedly. "I know, son, but I thought moving here would provide you two with more opportunities." He replied. "Every choice I've made was to try and improve your lives."

"Okay, Dad…" Cooper replied as he stood up. "But _nobody_ believes me when I tell them my Dad is Hawkeye and works for a top secret program." He complained before running over to Lila.

Clint stared openly at the child as he climbed up to join the girls on the monkey bars. So Cooper had been spilling classified information to who knows how many people this entire time?

Maybe it was time to return to isolation.

* * *

Thank you all very much for reading!

And I just want to say - I appreciate you all very much, you've always been so kind and patient with me! Thank you!


	29. Lila's ill!

**Author's Note:**

 **Thank you so much for the continued support through reading the story, and reviewing it too! It really means a lot to me!**

 **I've been getting a lot more 'please update' reviews, which I can definitely understand. Please be patient with me, I do know how long since I last posted, but right now, I am doing my best to go for Quality over Quantity. I don't want to simply post random chapters which were quick and easy to write - as they often lack any development.**

 **Thanks!**

* * *

Natasha wiped the sweat from her forehead as she quickly headed back to her room to take a shower. It was a good thing that she didn't have a scheduled upcoming mission, as that meant nobody ever questioned her actions.

Within fifteen minutes of receiving Clint's call, she was dressed and in the car, heading over. It turned out that Lila had been throwing up all night and wasn't well at all, but Clint still wanted Cooper to go to school. Therefore he called her to see if she was available to keep an eye on the former of the children - she'd presumed he would have asked one of his three babysitters. She needed to reinforce the importance of having a reliable babysitter, or even a nanny, whilst he worked. But, he knew best, and she knew he preferred to be there for the children than have somebody else there.

She slowed down drastically to be complying with the speed limit a mile from his house - role model and such - and parked before heading to the front door.

Clint opened the front door before she was even fully in the driveway, looking absolutely relieved to see her. Her nostrils were instantly filled with the stench of vomit. He waited until she was inside, then began bombarding her with information. "Alright, so Lila's been having tummy troubles - vomiting, diarrhea, aches. I made a doctor's appointment for her at two, and I need to get Coop to school and pick up some more anti-nausea meds. I should be back in an hour - maybe two, depending." He opened the fridge and pointed to a bottled water. "This is Lila's water - we don't know if she's contagious, so please make sure she only drinks from the one with her name on it." Then it was to the medicine cabinet. "I set out any meds she might need - fever reducer, pain meds, something to help her sleep if she's too miserable… Anything you think would help keep her comfortable. I gave her some ibuprofen an hour ago, so don't give her any more of that."

Natasha nodded, slightly overwhelmed by all of the information - there was never a chance for her to be ill as a child and if she were, then it was complete quarantine - the same quarantine as when a child had done something wrong. But, looking at the alternative of what appeared to be a hundred pills, she wouldn't exchange that process. "Got it," she replied, not needing him to repeat anything.

Nodding, he peered out into the hallway. "Got your shoes on, Coop? Alright, let's get going." He turned back to Natasha. "Call me if you need anything." He ran upstairs, presumably to say goodbye to Lila, and then ushered Cooper out the door.

Natasha looked around, pulling a face at the smell, and then decided it would be best if she checked on Lila now to see exactly what she had to deal with. Hopefully, the child was fast asleep. Surprisingly, Lila was, in fact, asleep with an empty and wet - probably recently cleaned - bucket beside her. So, with the time she had, she decided to throw open most of the windows and clean up the house to hopefully rid it of the awful stench.

Only sixteen minutes later - after putting the dishes into the dishwater and giving the bathroom an extensive clean - she heard Lila throwing up in her room and headed upstairs to see if she needed anything, Lila's water bottle in one hand. "Hey, Sweetheart," she said soothingly as she walked in, having been told that was a good nickname for Lila.

"I want Dada!" Lila cried before throwing up again.

"I know, he'll be back soon," Natasha promised as she stepped over a box and moved Lila's hair out of the way - she noticed the vomit on the hair, which had transferred to the bed. "Want to have a bath? It could make you feel better." She prompted.

Lila nodded once she'd finished throwing up, but didn't say anything else.

Natasha picked her up after she realised Lila didn't have the energy to move - it also meant she had to be extra careful to not leave her alone in the bathtub. Her mind quickly went through about twenty different possibilities of what to do before choosing one. "Use the toilet first while I run the bath." She told the young girl and then quickly rinsed out the bucket and handed it to her, turned on the taps before quickly stripping her bed of the bedding and plopping them into the washing machine. She came back and turned the taps off and tested the water before turning the cold tap back on.

"Are you ready?"

Lila nodded with an awfully sad face as she finished on the toilet and stood up unstably. "Can you help?"

Without hesitation, Natasha helped Lila to undress and lifted her into the bath, turning off the tap as she moved away. The water was only about six inches with Lila in it and it was lukewarm. It was one technique to cool down a child's temperature and helped to clean them up - Natasha had read that being clean could help children and adults to feel better.

"Mama used to do this," Lila spoke softly, her voice seeming more hoarse now that she was using longer sentences. "Dada di'n' know what t'do."

Natasha smiled softly. "Yes, Dada needs some training, but he's doing a good job."

Lila nodded sleepily. "Yeah. When he ba'?"

"Soon, once we get you back in bed, he'll be back in no time," Natasha replied, hoping that Lila would be so tired from moving around that she'd fall straight back to sleep so it didn't matter too much when Clint got back. "Ready to wash your hair?" Upon receiving a nod, she quickly shampooed it for Lila and then proceeded to manually help the child wash. They talked - Lila not being completely coherent - for nearly thirty minutes before Lila got out of the bathtub; she did have to throw up once during that time, but it was only a little bit. Due to the water being cold now, Lila's temperature had gone down, which was nice and hopefully helped in the long run, too.

Natasha wrapped her up in two big towels and left her on the bathroom floor as she moved the bedsheets from the washing machine to the dryer before coming back upstairs. Seeing Lila sleeping on the floor, she decided to get some clean sheets from the closet and make the child's bed. She quickly went over the room to clean it and left the window open a bit to allow some air to get in before closing the curtains - and then putting a knitted blanket over the window as curtains to make the room darker but allowing air to get in. Lila had complained of a little headache, so darkness and coolness would help.

Returning to the bathroom, Lila was still asleep so Natasha carried her back to her room, dressed her in pyjamas and laid her in bed. She put a blanket over her first before her standard covers to keep her warm - she didn't want any further problems - before exiting the room. She returned a minute later with a clean bucket, fresh bottle of water - the same one - and some crackers in case Lila woke up.

Natasha didn't hear a peep out of Lila for the next hour whilst she waited for Clint to get home and ended up extensively cleaning the bathroom and kitchen - including mopping - washing all of the clothes - most already dry - tidying the rest of the house, which now only needed hoovering and most importantly, ridding the entire house of the awful smell.

There was the sound of the front door opening and closing and then footsteps that were definitely Clint's. "Nat?" He called rather quietly, probably to make sure he didn't wake Lila if she was sleeping.

"Hey," Natasha greeted, walking to meet him as he walked in with a soft smile on her face. "Did you do everything you needed?" She asked conversationally, deciding to not get straight into everything with Lila, as there weren't any issues.

He dropped the plastic bags he carried onto the kitchen table. "Yep - anti-nausea meds, some ice packs in case we really need to get her fever down, and some soup and crackers." He glanced at the stairs, as though Lila would be waiting there. "Did she give you any trouble?"

"Nope, I gave her a bath and changed her bedding, and she's been sleeping ever since," Natasha answered shortly, peaking into the bags.

Clint intercepted her and reached into one of the bags before she could, grabbing something and extending it to her with a smile. "I also got you this to say thank you." It was her favourite candy bar.

Natasha smiled gratefully. "Chocolate - you're trying to make me fat," she accused teasingly as she opened it. "Go check on Lila, then we'll talk," she said, knowing he wanted to check on her. She then took a bite and carried the bags into the kitchen when Clint left, quickly putting them away before finishing her candy bar and returning to the living room right when Clint walked back downstairs. "How is she?"

His smile was relieved. "Her fever's gone down a little - she still sleeping soundly." He sat on the couch and his look invited her to do so as well.

She sat down beside him, turning her body so it was facing him. "You need a shower," she pointed out to him; he didn't specifically smell bad, but there was a lingering odor on him.

He crinkled his nose. "Is it that obvious?"

"No," Natasha said gently. "But, after using bleach and cleaning products - I noticed." Okay, so she would have noticed regardless, but that wasn't something that needed to be said.

"Fine, fine." He relented with a chuckle, standing again. "Why don't you take a break? Feel free to help yourself to The Cabinet while I'm gone." He offered with a wink before climbing the stairs.

Natasha watched him awkwardly; she wasn't sure if she was allowed to leave or not - was she staying here the whole day? She shrugged and just followed him upstairs - she'd already cleaned the whole house, so she might as well helped Clint to clean up.

* * *

Natasha strutted into Fury's office, not even bothering to knock on the door - he had asked for her, after all.

Fury was facing away from her, looking out of the giant window. "Have you heard of knocking?" He questioned rhetorically but allowed her time to reply.

"Heard it's a waste of time," Natasha replied as she decided to take a seat. It was almost peculiar to her how comfortable she was with Fury. There was something about him, about the two of them, that was just so natural. Their relationship was the first one she'd had that was always 100% platonic. There were no hidden feelings or sexual tension and she knew that he'd never ask her to do anything that would compromise her as a person. What was better was that he knew _her_ , and what she wasn't comfortable with. She and Clint always had sexual tension and for the first few months, she was just waiting for him to act on it or accept her advances. He didn't.

"Do you know who Tony Stark is?" Fury questioned as he turned to face her, the conversation about knocking officially over. With a small nod, Natasha confirmed that she did, which gave Fury the indication to continue. "We need you to keep an eye on him, if possible."

"Of course," Natasha accepted, lifting the file from his desk and flicking through it - Fury wasn't one to have random folders on his desk, so she knew he'd eventually have given it to her - she was just saving time. "He's signing over his company?"

Fury shrugged. "Allegedly." He answered. "Pepper Potts is looking for a lawyer; we intercepted the call and believe you'd be the perfect face for it, especially after establishing yourself in the lawyer industry."

It made a little more sense now as to what the last undercover mission was about - she was only slightly annoyed that Fury hadn't told her, as that meant there were others in consideration for this mission. Why was she even chosen to begin with? Regardless, she was given the mission and would complete it with - what phrase does Clint always use? Ah - flying colours. "Understood."

"Your handler will be Coulson - he, too, will be asking for access but in a more direct capacity," Fury informed her before their meeting came to an end.

* * *

 **Thank you very much for reading! It means a lot to me!**


	30. Where's home?

**Author's Note:**

 **Hey guys! So, Cruella specifically asked me if I was busy or had writers block, so I thought I'd actually tell you all what's going on.**

 **I don't have writers block, in fact, I have loads of ideas, some bigger than others.**

 **Yes, I am busy, with things that include: Redecorating the living room; Work getting hectic; Sister being pregnant (It's a girl!).**

 **But, that's not the reason for the slower replies. I have been to the doctors and hospital quite a lot lately and am going back next week for a pretty big test - which will also take me out of commission for three days (Writing, anyway). And that is on my mind so much that I can't focus until I have a proper diagnosis, etc... So, even when I do have time, I'm plagued with a multitude of unwanted thoughts.**

 **I should have results soon, and hopefully, after next week things should start going back to normal, but I'm not sure.**

 **Thank you all for reading, your reviews, favs, follows and everything. I love writing and having others actually enjoy it really makes me happy!**

* * *

Lila stumbled into the kitchen at about half past nine that morning, looking around confusedly and furrowing her little brows at Clint when she saw him sitting languidly at the counter, a cup of coffee in front of him. "Isn't there school today, Daddy?" She asked, brushing her tangled hair out of her face. "Where's Cooper?"

Clint patted the barstool beside him as an invitation for her to sit down, and she quickly hopped onto it. "Yes, today's a school day, and that's where Cooper is." He answered, passing her a blueberry muffin. She eagerly accepted the food and ravenously tore into it.

"Why 'm I home, then?" She asked around a giant bite of muffin. He corrected her on her manners and she quickly closed her mouth while she finished chewing.

"You'll head in in a little bit - I wanted to have a bit of time alone with you first," Clint told her as he grabbed the hairbrush that was always on the counter for just this kind of situation. He began carefully brushing her hair. "Are you happy here, Liles?"

She seemed to be totally surprised by the question, because her eyes widened for a second and she couldn't seem to speak. "... Uh… why?" She asked.

He shrugged as she gazed up at him curiously. "Cooper said something the other day that got me wondering." He explained. Lila furrowed her brows further - it was a comical expression, honestly.

"He said he wasn't happy living here?"

"Not quite… just that it didn't feel like this was _home_." He clarified. "Do you feel like that?"

She bashfully looked away and took another bite of the muffin before swallowing and replying, "Kinda." Clint paused for a second before resuming brushing her hair - how she managed to get it so hopelessly tangled _in her sleep_ was beyond him.

"It's alright if that's how you feel, sweetheart." He said kindly. "I'm not mad."

She made a noncommittal noise. "I mean, I like it here… but the farmhouse is _home_. It's where I remember being happy the most, being with… Mommy." The sadness in her voice cut him like a great beast's fangs.

The beginning stages of an idea that he'd been turning over in his mind for the past few days began to progress, develop into something almost doable. He didn't dare to share it now, though, because it would greatly affect their lives and he'd have to really think long and hard about it - so if he eventually came to the conclusion that it wouldn't work out, he didn't want to get Lila's hopes up now. "I know, honey." He said simply.

* * *

Clint managed to prevent himself from jumping in surprise when he went into the living room to find Natasha casually sitting on his couch. "Nat," he breathed, calming his pounding heart before smiling and taking a seat beside her. When she didn't respond right away, he frowned. "What's up?"

"Don't overreact," Natasha started - that was never good. "But... I'm heading out for a long undercover mission." She told him point-blank.

He blinked, unsure of how to respond for a moment. "How long?" He finally asked.

"There's not a specific end date. Just... long." She looked at him. "Months."

Clint let his breath out slowly. "You're going on a mission for… months. Will we be able to communicate at all? Letters, encoded transmissions, anything?"

Natasha nodded. "Yes, I won't be on radio silence," she assured.

Well, at least there was that. "When do you leave?" He asked, not sure he wanted to know - he had a feeling it was within the next few days.

"There's still some details to sort out; I'll be in contact with somebody before I head out, but I'm supposed to be living in the general area. There probably won't be much notice for you," she admitted.

He nodded, scrubbing his hands over his face. "Well, we'll have to make sure the kids have ample chance to say goodbye." He noted.

Natasha let out a breath as she nodded. "I think we should stage a day that I'll leave, tell them I'm leaving tomorrow or the next day and have a proper goodbye - that way, there's no chance of me literally disappearing. I just won't come over when they're here."

"Good idea. Until then, could you maybe spare some extra time to hang around here? Stay for dinner, play with the kids? They'll be heartbroken to be apart from you for so long." Clint said.

There was a bit of hesitation. "Yeah, sure. I'm free for the rest of today. And I'll try to free up my schedule before I go."

"Thanks." He replied, suddenly feeling rather awkward. He cleared his throat. "Well, you wanna help me get dinner started? The kids have an after-school thing so they'll be getting home in about an hour."

"Of course. What're we cooking?" Natasha asked, her voice suddenly sultry.

"I was thinking some casserole," he replied, intentionally oblivious to her tone - it was funny to tease her sometimes.

"Casserole - how boring. Mix things up a bit, Clint," Natasha teased.

He tapped his chin in thought as he led the way into the kitchen. "Alright, how about… pancakes?" He suggested.

Natasha rolled her eyes. "You are not cooking breakfast for dinner _again_. I meant something with freshly made food… salad, vegetables. Maybe we could try turkey, mashed potatoes, and a few vegetables."

Clint shrugged. "Sounds good to me. I just hope the turkey hasn't gone bad." He peered into the freezer and thankfully found a perfectly innocent-looking turkey, just waiting to be prepared - unlike on Thanksgiving Day, when he opened the freezer to find the turkey and found a strange bundle of mold and disgusting… _whatever_ it was. Clint was still ninety-percent sure that sabotage had been involved. "Yep, it's a go. Don't think we have any of the other ingredients, though."

Natasha sent him a semi-patronising look. "I'll go grab some groceries, shall I? Did you need me to pick up potatoes and vegetables?" She asked, and in a way, he felt scolded.

Playing it off, though internally kind of embarrassed that she had used that kind of tone at him, Clint opened the pantry door and went through the various canned vegetables. "We need potatoes, yeah, and… maybe some corn? That's a favourite." He said.

"Sure… corn," Natasha muttered before smiling at him, a little _too_ sweetly. "I'll be back in a little while." As she walked to the front door, he heard her chuckling to herself.

There was something decidedly unsettling about her unexplained laughter… and it had sounded mildly evil. Clint really hoped she would come back with _only_ the items he'd asked for.

* * *

Natasha easily lifted the two bags of shopping she'd bought - more than she had told Clint she was buying, but she wanted them to have the option of eating healthily. She entered the house and headed straight for the kitchen; it wasn't long until joined her. As he peered into the bags curiously, she held back a sly smile. "Only a few essentials."

He dug through the contents of the bag closest to him. "That's a _lot_ of apples." He commented. "Well, it's a good thing apples are like Lila's crack-cocaine. Just don't let her see how many you got, or she'll be asking you to cut one for her every half hour." He joked as he began to help her put the groceries that wouldn't be used away.

Natasha couldn't help but roll her eyes - trust Clint to compare eating healthily to an addictive and dangerous drug. It was so typically _him_ that the corners of her lips turned upwards. "You're a goof," she muttered, mainly to herself as she got the turkey joint out of the freezer and put it to one side before preheating the oven.

A pair of strong arms slipped around her waist and he hugged her from behind. "Yeah… I'm _your_ goof." He replied with a chuckle.

Okay, that sounded weird and on a level of intimacy that she didn't know existed. It looked like she found Clint's clingy side - say you're leaving for a super long mission and he gets all… what is this?… weird cutesy teenage coupley stuff. Natasha was pretty sure she didn't like it, but, on the other hand, it did fit the goofiness he seemed to have going today. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. I was thinking that we could have peas with the corn." She suggested, twisting her head slightly so she could see his immediate reaction.

He wrinkled his nose. "Peas? Out of all the vegetables, you just _had_ to pick my arch-nemesis?"

She chuckled, putting the turkey into the pan along with parsnips along the side before throwing some oil and seasoning over both of them. "Clint, if you don't like vegetables, how can you expect your children to eat them?" She asked when she turned her full attention to him, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"'Do as I say, not as I do.'" Was Clint's reply before he chuckled and pressed a kiss to her lips.

"I'm sure that'll work for you," Natasha commented; to be honest, she didn't have any experience raising children. She planted a kiss on his lips. "But I'm still cooking peas because I love them." She added before kissing him again.

Clint groaned. "How can you love something so monstrous?" He cried, sounding utterly betrayed.

Natasha decided to let out a laugh before pulling away from him. "You should probably leave now to pick up your kids if you don't want to be late."

He groaned again, this time it was the sound the epitome of laziness. "But it's so far _away_." He whined. "I really need to get them on the bus route."

"Yes, you do. They've been living here for over a year now," she agreed. "And no, before you ask, I'm not going to pick them up - I have to peel the potatoes and keep an eye on dinner." She added, giving him a knowing look.

Clint sighed in defeat and grabbed his car keys from the key rack. "Alright, be back in a bit. No planting any bugs while I'm gone - although, I know being away from my beautiful self will be hard for you."

"Don't worry, I have all the bugs and secret cameras in this place that I need," Natasha replied with a smirk in his direction.

He gave her an 'I'm watching you' gesture before leaving the room and going out to the car.

She rolled her eyes again and quickly got the rest of dinner prepped before doing some research into her upcoming mission.

* * *

After the children were fed and helped clear the table, Clint had them fetch their homework from their backpacks and got them set up so they could do it while he talked to Nat upstairs. He quickly went through each worksheet and explained a more simplified method of completing whatever problems they'd been assigned, then motioned for Natasha to follow him as he climbed the stairs. After pausing to listen and make sure neither child was calling for him, Clint closed his bedroom door behind them and turned to Natasha. "I'm thinking about moving back to the farmhouse." He said bluntly.

Natasha looked at him blankly for a few moments - and he couldn't work out what she was thinking. "So… you're leaving S.H.I.E.L.D?" She questioned.

"No, I'd still be working part-time. I'd just have to wake up a bit earlier since it's further away." He answered quickly, rubbing the back of his neck. "I was talking to Cooper earlier, and he was talking about how this didn't feel like home, and Lila thought the same thing. They both consider the farmhouse as their home. And it holds memories of their mother that they can't quite leave behind yet."

Natasha shrugged but was still showing no emotion. "Okay."

There was something off about that - Natasha was hiding emotions, literally showing none at all, when nonchalance or casualness would have fit fine. She apparently felt much more strongly about this than she cared to let on. "What's wrong?" He asked, furrowing his brows.

"Nothing," she replied shortly. She looked around for a second. "Is that all?"

Sighing, he decided not to push things. "Yeah, that was all."

Natasha nodded. "Good. Let's go and tell the children that I'm leaving for an extended period of time, then."

Ah, yes. The other big announcement of the day. "I'll try to keep Lila from hugging you to death - no guarantees, though."

"I can handle it, Clint," Natasha said before turning away from him and walking out of his bedroom. She didn't even pause before heading straight downstairs.

Okay, something was _definitely_ eating at her. Clint just wasn't sure if he'd ever learn what it was. Letting out another sigh, he followed her down the stairs.

* * *

 **Thank you for reading! I've never done this on this story before, usually only on Familial Bonds - but here's a little relay of the conversations Violet and I have on a general basis - this one is due to living in different countries!**

 **Vanilla - Gammon, mash, and green beans.**

 **Violet - What, WHAT?! And green beans.**

 **Vanilla - Huh?**

 **Violet - What is Gammon? What is mash?**

 **Vanilla - Mash… you call that mashed potatoes. And Gammon like a gammon joint, you know, from a pig.**

 **Violet - Oh! You mean… pork?**

 **Vanilla - EWW! NO! PORK AND GAMMON ARE DIFFERENT! But both pig.**

 **Violet - Bacon?**

 **Vanilla - No, no, still different, but also both from a pig. Okay, how about I go step by step. Gammon is a ham joint which has been cured like bacon. It is different from a bacon joint in that it is a different cut, although a bacon joint can be used as a lower quality alternative. Gammon can be smoked or unsmoked.**

 **Violet - Ah, okay. I don't like anything pig though… 'cept ham.**

 **Vanilla - That's it, I'm changing what they are eating.**

 **So, a question for all of you - do you know what gammon is? And if I said mash - would know that it's 'mashed potatoes'. Thanks! See you next time!**


	31. Goodbyes and plans

Clint looked up at Natasha as she walked into his bedroom, he knew exactly what she was going to say before she even spoke - she was heading out on her undercover mission now. It had only been two days since she told him, and even though she insisted on telling the children asap, he kept putting it off - he knew the children wouldn't like it. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," Natasha replied shortly. "I've already left, this'll have to be quick."

He nodded solemnly, him putting it off meant that him and Nat couldn't even have a proper goodbye. However, he was surprisingly pleased that she hadn't just left, she dropped by to say goodbye. "Alright. Do you know when you'll be back?"

Natasha's deadly look showed she was not in the mood to answer pointless questions; they both knew the answer to that. "Don't make this any harder than it has to be." She said before turning away from him and walking out of his bedroom.

The kids had taken the news of Natasha leaving soon as well as could be expected: Lila whimpered pitifully and clung to Nat's leg, begging her to stay, while Cooper pouted up at her. "Please don't just leave! Dad's boring!" He complained, which earnt him a raised brow from Clint.

Natasha looked down at him. "I have to go - it's for work," she responded - a line Clint had used several times in the past.

Lila and Cooper both deflated further at the use of the well-known excuse. "But your strawberries are the best!" Lila sniffled, big dewy eyes staring so intensely that Clint wondered if she was peering into Natasha's very soul.

"I'll tell your father where to buy them," Natasha said, as if that solved Lila's whole problem. She bent down and gave both of them a proper hug. "I have to go now."

"No!" Lila protested, clinging to Natasha's neck now, burying her face in her shoulder. "What if you don't come back?" Cooper, hugging Natasha next to his sister, shot an elbow out at the little girl.

"Liles, don't say that!" Cooper scolded, eyes suspiciously red.

Natasha gently pried the children off of herself and gave Clint a look that showed how much she was not enjoying this. "Don't say that, it's just a routine m-" she barely paused, "job. Nothing to worry about." She stood up quickly.

Clint gently coerced the children away from Natasha so she could walk uninhibited by their grasping. "Don't worry, kiddos - she'll be back before you know it." He said as encouragingly as he could.

"But I'll miss her!" Lila continued to argue.

"Bye, kids; bye, Clint. See you around," Natasha said before walking straight out of the front door and into the night.

Lila burst into tears once again while Cooper swiped quickly at his eyes. Clint crouched down and pulled them both into a hug. "Hey, now, it's alright. She's coming back. I promise." He comforted, not letting his voice show how each little sob from his daughter broke his heart.

* * *

Clint was extraordinarily busy that day, and so as he navigated his way through the halls of the base, he decided to multitask and type some reports onto his tablet as he walked. He wasn't normally one to do that, but he _really_ didn't feel like getting home amazingly late. As it was, his finely-tuned spy senses were dimmed as his attention was mostly on the screen, and thus he rounded the next corner without so much as a glance up - and promptly bumped into Bobbi, headed in the opposite direction. His tablet hit her laptop and he nearly dropped it to the floor, but was able to reach out and snag it just before impact was made, while Bobbi quickly brought her laptop to her chest to keep it in her arms. They stared at each other, in semi-shock over what had just transpired, before they simultaneously burst out laughing at the sheer ridiculousness of it.

"Long time no see, Bob," Clint greeted happily.

Bobbi's defenses dropped further. "Wow, you have aged, old man," she teased instantly before pulling him into a hug.

He easily returned the embrace before pulling away and looking her up and down. "How the hell do you manage to stay so young in this line of work?" He demanded teasingly.

"Not all of us are hitting forty - or are you nearly fifty now?" Bobbi joked with a laugh. "And moisturising helps."

"I'm offended that you haven't been keeping track of my birthdays!" He retorted. "Maybe I should stop inviting you to them."

Bobbi put her hand to her heart. "Really? You will?" She asked with fake excitement. "Thanks!"

He pulled a face at her before dissolving into a smile again. "It really is great to see you again. How's the job been for you?" He asked as they began to walk side-by-side to the kitchen, without needing to verbally agree on it.

"Great - really great, actually. I've met a lot of great contacts lately," Bobbi replied. "How about you? Settling back in well?"

Clint nodded, making his way into the kitchen while she wordlessly took a seat at the tiny table. "Yeah… although the kids have just informed me that life isn't as good in the city as I'd thought it was." He looked away, opening the freezer and peering inside. "Cheese or pepperoni?"

"Pepperoni," Bobbi answered first. "What do you mean? What did they say?" She inquired, placing her tablet to one side of the table.

As he took the pizza out of its box and preheated the oven, Clint replied, "Well, first Coop asked when we would be going back home. Then he told me that the farmhouse has always felt like home to him, and Lila agreed. They have too many memories of their mother there, and they're sad to be apart from that, I think." He admitted, leaning tiredly against the counter between them.

Bobbi let out a little chuckle before sobering up quickly. "Ah, you hated your childhood - sorry." She cleared her throat. "I still miss my childhood home; hell, I even miss my parents' rules and I always will. I'm thrilled when I go home - okay, it's not often because… let's not talk about that. But children always - well, _usually_ \- miss their childhood homes when they move away. Ask anybody."

He sighed. "I know, kids make emotional attachments to places. I just… I thought living in the city, getting away from the memories, allowing them to socialise with kids their age… I thought that would make them happier. Now I'm finding out that they think of it more as a vacation than a new chapter of our lives."

"What's wrong with that? I'm sure they'd understand if you tell them that it's their permanent home," Bobbi replied with a small shrug. "You might be thinking about this too much. Just think about what would be best for the children now, and for their future, and what would be best and easiest for you now and in the future - I would say just now, but I know you're a future thinker."

Clint's lips pulled into a tiny smile and he put the pizza into the oven when it was done preheating. "I know - that's all I ever seem to think about these days. But I'm not sure if staying in the city _is_ what's best. The kids miss their mother, and the farmhouse is one of their few remaining connections to her. They lived their whole lives in that house." He set the timer on the stove and went to sit across from Bobbi.

"Clint, didn't you move them out of the farmhouse _because_ of those memories? You can't bring their mother back," Bobbi pointed out softly. "And they haven't lived there their whole lives now," she added.

He groaned. "I know… But I think enough time has passed that the memories would be good for them. I don't want them to ever forget about Laura and how amazing she was. She was the best mother they could have ever asked for."

Bobbi looked at him long and hard. "You've already made your mind up, so I'm not going to waste my breath. Just give me a call if you need any help moving - I have some time off for a pointless injury."

He raised a brow, allowing himself to lighten up. Thinking about the current issues pressing on him constantly was really bringing him down. "'Pointless injury'? What kind of pointless injury?" He asked, mock-suspicious.

"Fractured rib - hairline fracture at that," Bobbi replied with a roll of her eyes. "It was a few days ago, but I was written off for two weeks - it doesn't even hurt anymore."

"You are so much like Natasha that it's kind of scary," Clint commented with a laugh. "You know, you can take the time off when you're injured."

Bobbi rolled her eyes. "You wouldn't," she countered, "besides, it doesn't actually hurt."

Clint rolled his eyes slightly, out of everybody he knew, Bobbi was a lot like him, willing to continue on fighting with a broken leg or after being tortured until the job is done. Natasha was a bit more like a robot who appeared to never be injured and always injured - it was strange. "Well, it would be a great vacation then, a week off with no pain."

There was a pause from his former partner before she let out a smile and pulled out her phone. "You're right, a few days away wouldn't kill me."

"Who are you texting?" Clint asked when she received an immediate response and started to ignore him. The smile on her lips made him even more curious, but she wasn't answering him. "Bob?"

"Hmm?" She verbalised, glancing up at him. "I'm making plans."

"With who?" Clint asked again, but was interrupted by the timer, and Bobbi took that cue to ignore him again. He stood up and collected the now-cooked pizza and put it between them, but which time, Bobbi was smiling and was no longer texting. "So, what are your plans?"

Bobbi grinned mischievously at him. "Just meeting up with a friend."

Clint knew by her demeanour that this was _more_ than just a friend. "Who?"

"What? Are you jealous? I thought you would have gotten over me by now - after all, you did get married and have children after we broke up." Bobbi teased him, laughing for a few moments as she took a slice of pizza. "Just a friend."

Clint didn't believe her but felt like it would be best to not interrogate her in this matter - she did know a lot of his secrets, such as, his personally weaknesses. It was probably best to change the subject away from who she was meeting. "Just don't do too much _activity_ whilst you're away - you are still injured."

Bobbi laughed again before taking a bite of pizza. "Lay off, Clint."

However, the teasing didn't stop, in fact, it only increased between the two of them. They had so much history that the continued to talk all the way to his car before parting ways later that day.

* * *

Late that night, Clint sat on his bed, hunched over his laptop as he exhaustively researched how to homeschool his kids and how to find a nanny for them while he worked. Laura had done both of those jobs once upon a time, and searching for ways to fill in the gaps she'd left behind tugged at his heart.

He finally found some good, reliable homeschooling materials such as workbooks, textbooks and even some hands-on activities and quickly ordered them. With that done, he switched gears and began looking into nannies living in the area around the farmhouse. They had to be at least eighteen years old with CPR training as well as at least a basic understanding of how to operate a handgun (two of which he kept hidden in the house at all times, just in case) and how to fight hand-to-hand, as well as being very responsible in nature. If they were to be living with the family, they had to be a good role model for the kids and ready to deal with any situation that could come their way.

He came across one website that let people post ads for free, allowing him to list all of his specific criteria, but the next morning, when he found his phone blowing up with response emails, he realised his mistake.

He tried to reply to each interested party by asking a few questions to get a basic understanding of how they would do in the job. There was a variety of responses, one of them good, some bad, but none perfect - in his opinion anyway. Still, looking at their resume and answers weren't the best way to determine whether or not they would be a good fit or not. Then again, he had to appreciate the applicates answering his strange questions, they ranged from _What is your stance on spanking?_ To _What is your idea of a balanced lunch?_ to _Do you believe in medicating children to help with sickness?_

It was hard to determine how good they are with children, even though some wrote a very good cover letter about their experience and love for children. The ones who had a great attitude about homeschooling seemed to be the best on paper, but that didn't automatically mean they were good with the non-school activities. They could love little girls, but then turn around and hate little boys or visa versa. He ended up nursing a small headache over breakfast that morning, there were so many more applicants than he imagined - he knew this was a good thing, but it meant more work.

He decided that interviews would be the best idea, he'd work out a day or two closer to the farm to meet up with them, and right now, he considered hiring more than one - that way, he didn't need to live in fear that if the nanny fell ill or had to leave urgently, he had to get back. Also, he started to realise that he didn't want to replace the mother figure by hiring a full time nanny to do everything… maybe he could split up the duties.

Closing the laptop before his mind exploded, he decided to come back to it later.

* * *

It was only a week into Natasha's undercover mission and yet it felt like she'd been gone for a year. Clint had never realised how dull life could be without her there to spice things up a bit - although Cooper and Lila never let things get too dull for too long. Still, her absence was an almost physical sensation; their once-every-other-day chats over the phone did little to sate his desire to actually _see_ her.

He supposed this sudden near-dependency on Natasha partially stemmed from the huge amounts of stress he was under as he got everything ready for the move back to the farmhouse. There was plenty of packing to do, as well as plans to lay in terms of when they'd leave and what would happen to this house. He also needed to meet with the school principal and administrators to pull his kids from public school.

Clint was used to working solo, of course, but he much preferred working with a partner. Laura had been a pro at educating their kids and at keeping everything organised, and Natasha was determined and great at completing any task given to her. He found himself wishing for both of them - and, in turn, wishing for a miracle in each case - in equal measure. What he wouldn't give for Laura to pop her head in, smile, and assure him that she would take care of the school. What he wouldn't give for Natasha to waltz in and help him shove various possessions into boxes.

Cooper and Lila tried their best to help with the packing end of things, but they were just kids, and both got easily distracted with the various toys they'd find in their rooms as they packed their things up. Also, neither had a strong sense of organisation, so when he checked over their work so far, he often found breakable objects buried in a pile of other things and often ended up having to repack the whole box.

Even though it had only been a week since he'd decided to move his family back to the farmhouse, he was frustrated with the very little progress they were making. Thus why he was wishing so fervently for a miracle in the form of resurrection or the sudden end of an undercover mission.

He finished putting the kids' soccer equipment into a box and sighed, wiping sweat from his brow. The garage was slowly growing more barren as he made his way through the various shelves and random boxes strewn about in it. He decided to call it a day for now and take a shower - the thought of spending another minute in the surprisingly toasty garage was a thousand kinds of unappealing.

After cleansing himself of the grime, sweat and cobwebs he'd accumulated from navigating the garage, he headed into the kitchen to see if he needed to grab some groceries before picking the kids up from school. He opened the fridge as his phone began buzzing in his pocket and he glanced it at; upon seeing that it was Natasha, he closed the fridge and answered it immediately. "Hey, Nat."

"Hey, Hawk," Natasha greeted - the codename threw him for a moment before he remembered that she was on a mission and probably didn't want to use personal names in case of a security breach. "You answered the call quickly," she observed.

Clint chuckled, leaning against the counter. "I hope I don't seem too desperate now," he teased. "How's the mission?"

"Standard," Natasha replied shortly. "How is everything your end?"

He shrugged. "Getting things together so we can move back. Let me tell you, things are a lot less efficient around here with no woman of the house."

There was a second of silence. "You have a little woman in the house - I'll see if I can call later and quickly teach Lila how to boss you around."

"That's just what I need - a mini Natasha on my hands." Clint said with a laugh, ignoring the pang of longing he felt, wishing Nat as actually there with him. "Cooper wants you to help him memorise some spelling words when you get back, by the way."

Natasha sighed. "Don't let him hold off on his homework for me, Clint - I foresee that this might be a while."

His heart sank a little, despite the voice in the back of his head insisting that he'd known it would take a while. "Don't worry, I won't. I'm just warning you that your homework help will be in high demand once you do get back."

"Clint," Natasha said, taking a breath before continuing, "when are you planning on moving the kids back to the farm and taking them out of school?"

He sighed. "This Friday is their last day, and hopefully we'll be back at the farmhouse by next Thursday. Why?"

"Because you're talking about Cooper's homework when he won't be having homework in a week - he'll be homeschooled. I thought you might have changed your mind," she replied, her voice oddly becoming more and more devoid of emotion since the beginning of the conversation.

Clint furrowed his eyebrows. "No, I didn't change my mind… Homework isn't exclusive to public schooling, you know." He pointed out, wondering why she suddenly seemed so… blank. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Natasha answered, probably sharper than she'd intended. "You never told me that you finalised your plan to move back to your farm; it was just an idea when you last mentioned it. I'm just trying to work out where you'll be when I get back, as obviously you'll have to transfer to a different base, one closer to your farm."

He froze up a little as he realised that she was right. The distance between the base and the farmhouse was much greater than between their city home and the base. It had been a much easier distance for him back when Laura was around to care for the kids, as she was specially trained in defense and could handle any situations that arose when he was too far away. But now that he'd be leaving them with a nanny, who likely wouldn't have any special fighting abilities, the distance seemed far too great. He wouldn't be able to rush home and get there in time to save the day. "I… yeah, I guess so." He agreed, still thrown off by the realisation.

"It's going to be a big transition for you, the children, and our relationship," Natasha said before adding, "I don't like it."

"Me either." He found himself agreeing before he could actually think the words over. He mentally cursed. This was what was best for the kids, and he would do whatever was necessary to keep them happy, healthy, and safe. "But we can work something out - we're not the type to just give up, are we?" He asked in an attempt to boost morale.

There was a long and unsettling stretch of silence. "No," she answered, followed immediately by, "I have to go." The call ended before he had a chance to get a word in.

Sighing dejectedly, Clint tossed the phone onto the counter and massaged his head. Why couldn't life ever be simple?

* * *

 **Thank you for reading!**

 **Hope you enjoyed the longer chapter!**

 **Thank you to those who reviewed the previous chapter!: MahhKayyLahhBarton; Guest Cruelia; discordchick; Nimbus.**

 **Right, so... my laptop is completely BROKEN! I'm taking it into a shop later this week to see if I can get it fixed, but until then... well... I'm on the computer a lot less. I'm posting this at work right now, and can use my Dads (but not all the time). If I don't get my laptop fixed, then it would be Christmas until everything will go back to normal - so, please bare with me even more than you have before... life isn't being very nice to me lately!**


	32. Interviews

**Author's Note:**

 **Thank you so much for the amazing reviews and support from all of you! I really, really do appreciate it! MahhKayyLahhBarton; Cruelia; discordchick; Princess 2016; Cruella.**

 **My computer appears to be beyond repair, I'm generally borrowing my dads (To his distain, apparently, he never gets to use it now, haha). So, I'm hoping to at least get all of my information, pics, etc... from my old laptop and will either go halves for a laptop for Christmas or use all my Christmas money (plus my own money) to buy one!**

* * *

Clint shook the chip bag over his mouth until the last crumbs fell out and ended up landing right in the back of his throat, making him cough. _Nat would kill me if she saw how horribly I'm eating_. The news was blaring on in the background as he went through his emails and set up certain times to meet up with some promising nanny candidates. He narrowed the list down, taking out anybody who he had any doubts over. Then began flicking through the background checks which he had on the all, some of them being written off certain criminal behaviours - although, there wasn't many - and those who had children. He wouldn't feel right employing somebody to look after his children when he was taking them away for theirs. There were a few other aspects he looked into before setting up interviews with twenty candidates - he knew he could easily whittle them down during the interview stage - then again, he did just whittle it down from over a hundred candidates. He looked through the list and was hoping to hire two so he could have one take over if the other was sick or indisposed.

He glanced at the clock - Cooper and Lila would be in school for another two hours. That felt like a lot of time, but with all the things he had to get done, he knew it would pass in seconds. Sighing, he rubbed at his forehead.

" _Tony Stark has just been attacked by a man wielding what appears to be some sort of electric whips on the race course!"_ The shocked reporter's urgent report caught Clint's attention and he turned to watch the footage.

"Hah, I wonder which abused employee is finally getting revenge." He mused to himself. That Stark bastard deserved a bit of a rude awakening.

He couldn't let himself get distracted. Shaking his head, Clint turned back to his laptop and continued with the mental to-do list he had made himself. He needed to finish off the forms for moving the children out of school and into homeschooling so he could turn them in. Also, the children were being put into a different school's homeschooling program, a much more secure one, which did camp trips, online teaching activities, lectures and socials for the children - they would have the chance to have more of a normal life. They could make friends this way, and that made him feel a lot better about taking them out of school. They wouldn't be completely isolated, but still very, very safe.

* * *

Clint was impressed with Nat's timing, honestly. The moment his foot first made contact with the finely-polished floor of the base, his phone was ringing. By the third step, the phone was by his ear and he was distractedly weaving through the crowd of agents coming in to start the day. "Hey, Nat." He greeted, then turned and apologised to Margaret after he bumped into her. Several times he covered the mouthpiece to greet random agents mostly out of habit. "What's up?," he said to Nat before being greeted by an agent he knew rather well. "Hey, George. How's the wife? Great."

"Hm, you sound busy. Should I call back later?" Natasha asked, sounding rather distracted herself.

"No, it's fine. Just going through the formalities." He replied; he didn't want to miss this opportunity to talk - calling friends and family during a mission was always difficult. There were certain precautions you had to take, and Nat was one who would rarely call during a mission, so he wanted to make sure he gave her the time she deserved and he wanted. Therefore, he quickly ducked into a side corridor - it would take him longer to get to his office, but he'd miss the array of agents coming in. "How's the mission going?"

"Meh; nothing interesting. Same old. What about on your end?" Natasha replied.

He shrugged, even though she couldn't see it. "Things are moving both unbearably slowly and hellishly fast. Can't quite figure out if I'm making much progress." He admitted, taking his bag from his shoulder and setting it against the wall.

"Progress on what?" She inquired. "The move in general?"

"Pretty much." He replied with a sigh. "Everything is all over the place."

Natasha hummed. "Interesting," she replied, although she sounded the opposite of interested.

He furrowed his eyebrows. "So… something on your mind? You seem a bit out of it."

"Just hit a bump in the mission, or a breakthrough, depending on how you look at it," Natasha replied vaguely. "I saw something that reminded me of you yesterday- considered buying it for you but… decided it could blow my cover, so I didn't." She informed him randomly.

"Oh? What was such a giveaway?" He questioned teasingly.

"It was an arrow-themed spice rack," Natasha answered precisely.

He smothered a laugh at how truly random that was. "Because clearly someone buying a _spice rack_ with some arrows on it can _only_ mean that they're undercover. I'm so offended that getting me a gift isn't worth the risk to you." He huffed before dissolving into laughter.

"I'm glad you understand," she replied with a high level of smugness. "At least I _thought_ about buying you something - that's got to mean something."

"Well, it's the thought that counts." He agreed, stuffing his free hand into his pocket. "Lila drew you a picture yesterday - clearly you've had a bit too much influence on her… it was… well, violent."

There was a second where Natasha didn't reply, before she fondly said, "That makes me very happy. What did she draw?"

"You throwing my head out the window like a baseball. It was actually kind of impressive." That hadn't stopped him from putting the offending picture into the back of the file cabinet, of course. He just hoped he wouldn't forget about it and rediscover it in fifty years and subsequently have a heart attack.

"Cool, sounds legit," Natasha replied and he could hear her smirk through her voice. "I should go and let you do some work."

He sighed, not wanting the conversation to end, but agreed. "Alright. Talk to you later?"

"Of course," Natasha said before adding on a quick, "bye," and ending the call.

Clint slipped his phone into his pocket and finished the trek to his office, where he promptly got to work on filling out the transfer papers that had been sitting in his folder for a week now. He had been procrastinating the task for as long as possible, reluctant to really make it the truth that he would have to transfer. But he couldn't put it off any longer. With a bittersweet feeling constricting his chest, Clint put his pen to the paper.

* * *

The following day, Clint was finalising the interviews, which were now happening tomorrow, and cooking dinner for the children. He decided to go with a simple pasta bake - he wanted to do more home-cooked meals now, as it was very likely that the nannies would cook from scratch - as they all seemed to mention how great of a cook they were - and he didn't want the children questioning it too much. Then again, Natasha had cooked them some meals from scratch, but she more focused on lunches when she was around.

Cooper and Lila were sitting at the island in the kitchen, half quizzing him, half asking questions about their homework. As he was taking the children out a month before the end of their school year, he and the teachers had come to an agreement that his children would get the next month's work done in the week they had left. If he had thought about the timing better, he would have stayed for another month, but he had already told the landlord when he was leaving and it would be too much of a hassle to work that out. The children didn't seem to mind, though - it was mainly more homework than anything.

"Dad, can you read me the words so I can write them without looking?" Cooper asked, holding out a sheet. "I have to learn to spell _twenty_ words!"

Clint took the sheet and looked at the words - his teacher usually gave them five new words a week, so it was no wonder Cooper was pointing out how many words there were. "Sure. First word: morning."

After checking on Lila with her math - wow, she was actually doing really well! - he turned to start the sauce, occasionally checking to see when Cooper was ready for the next words. Everything somehow seemed to work out perfectly; he finished the sauce at the same time the pasta was ready whilst giving Cooper the last word of, "Children."

He knew he would have to go over the spellings again; he'll get cooper to spell the words aloud during or after dinner. Probably after dinner, as he wanted to talk to the children again about moving back to the farm and everything that would change with it. It wasn't too late to change plans, so he wanted to make sure this is what they wanted and they wouldn't turn around once they had moved.

"Daddy, can I do more math? I finished it. Can I have more?" Lila asked after he'd put the pasta bake into the oven to bake for a few minutes.

"How about you finish the rest of your homework first and then we'll do some math games," Clint countered.

Lila thought it over for a few minutes, and he thought she was going to have a tantrum, but then nodded. "Okay, Daddy." Clint couldn't help but internally chuckle - Lila was the first child he'd ever met that actually _liked_ doing math homework.

Noticing that Cooper seemed distracted, he sprung up a short conversation to see if he was finished with homework or not. "Hey, bud. What are you thinking about?"

"What if the police lied and turned on their siren, but it was just to get tacos for lunch… and wasn't really because somebody got shot?" Cooper said and then looked at Clint for an answer.

Clint was honestly thrown off completely by the statement and then the added question for a few moments. "Well, why do you think they would lie?"

Cooper pondered this for a few seconds. "Because tacos are _really_ yummy!" He decided with a smile. "I would do it too!"

Clint let his head bob up and down in a nod. "Great… want to set the table?"

Cooper nodded and slipped down from his chair without another word and left his father completely confused as to where that conversation had come from. He hadn't even let Clint move on and actually answer his original question! He shook the thoughts from his mind and looked at the book that Lila pulled out.

"Is that the book you have to read for class?" He asked.

Lila nodded and handed him the book. "That's all the homework I have left." She informed him.

For a five-year-old, Lila was very clever and advanced - in his opinion, anyway, but he was sure every parent felt that way about their children. Flicking through the book, he noticed it was mainly pictures with very short paragraphs on every other page; it was still quite a bit of reading for Lila, but not excessive. "We can read it together before bedtime - how about you get washed up for dinner?"

Lila nodded and jumped down from her seat before running off.

He felt his phone buzz in his pocket and quickly checked it, expecting it to be another nanny clarifying that she would, indeed, be attending the interview tomorrow. But no, it was Nat. Had it been from anybody else, he would have believed the 'just checking in' line she used, but this was Nat and that sort of text made him slightly worried. He quickly replied with the standard reply before asking if she was alright. She replied immediately confirming that she was fine, but something still felt unsettling in his stomach - unfortunately, he didn't have much time to debate what to do as he didn't want to burn dinner. He decided to take the pasta bake out first - it didn't look too bad - before sending her another quick text. This time, though, she blew him off, saying that they'd talk later.

Clint forced himself to not overreact and served dinner as usual. He continued with his plan of talking his children through all of the changes that would occur, and their happy faces every time he talked about the farm was more than enough reason to proceed. They both liked the idea of having a nanny, too - although Lila pouted upon finding out that Nat wouldn't be their nanny.

After dinner, he let the children play before putting Lila to bed first, spending twenty minutes together reading the book. He allowed Cooper to stay up just a little bit longer before putting him to bed too. The children usually went to bed at the same time, but, by giving them slightly separated bedtimes, he could spend a good amount of time with each of them individually to say goodnight.

Clint was too tired to do any tidying up - he'd had a long day at work and was full on with the children when they came home from school. Moving houses was so much hassle that he wondered how he'd managed to do it before. With thoughts of everything he had done that day, and everything he had to do, he drifted off to sleep on the couch for a few hours.

Waking up in the middle of the night, he quickly cleaned up the kitchen and living room, put a load of laundry on and called it a night. He was asleep, once again, before his head even hit the pillow.

* * *

Clint woke up with a lot of energy the next morning - he'd really needed that long sleep! He was happy the entire time he made breakfast and lunch for his children before waking them up - not that they were completely thrilled about it. With a smile on his face, he made sure he had everything for the interviews before dropping the children off and then _borrowing_ a quinjet to fly closer to the chosen interview location. He had rented an office with a receptionist for the day.

He was really glad that he had a lot of energy, as it was going to be a long and tightly packed day. The nannies knew he was seeing more than just one applicant. He also had to schedule for the nannies to turn up every twenty minutes to ensure he wasn't here _all_ day - but just in case, he had Bobbi picking up the children, as she was getting back this morning.

His first appointment started at ten, which gave him half an hour from when he stepped foot into the office - he sent Bobbi a text before smiling at the first applicant, already waiting for him. He made her wait only a few minutes before calling her in.

"Good morning, sir, I'm Andrea Mills," she introduced herself formally as they shook hands and she sat opposite him. She was semi-formally dressed, with fitted black jeans, a loose top and a blazer which she used more like a jacket. It was a great attire. Andrea was one of the youngest applicants at 29, but she had quite a bit of experience. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

Clint smiled. "Feel free to call me Clint, Andrea." He decided - he'd hate to be too formal. "Tell me a bit about yourself and why you believe you are qualified to be a nanny."

Andrea held a smile before taking a breath and answering the question. "I'll be entering my thirties next month. I've always started my summer vacation with my birthday, which always brightens up my year. As the oldest of four, I started babysitting when I was thirteen. I've always loved children, which is why I majored in child development at college. I used to babysit two boys, but now that they're older, their parents don't need a full-time nanny anymore - I worked there for five years. I believe that I'm more than qualified for the job - I truly love it and love to watch children develop. I've got a great work ethic and I pride myself on my patience. I'm also certified in giving CPR and I've taken several basic first aid classes."

Clint jotted down a few notes. "Are you dating?"

"Yes," she answered. "However, that will not stop me from fulfilling my duties at all. My girlfriend travels for work a lot and is barely home. You mentioned something about receiving the standard minimum holiday off - plus extra time - which would work perfectly for the relationship we have and you'd be given plenty of notice. Also, during those times, I can be very flexible if something does come up."

"Very well. How much do you know about a child's curriculum?"

"I have never been a teacher for a homeschooled child, only ever helping the children with homework, but I am willing to help. I, obviously, did learn what the children have and need to know, having gone to school at their ages, and I was also a second-grade teacher's aide for two years. I believe it would be a very interesting and exhilarating opportunity."

Clint nodded. Her background in teaching was slightly underwhelming; however, actually looking after the children seemed like a promising area - she ticked all of those boxes. "Do you know karate? Or any other self-defence?"

Andrea actually paused, lost for words at the question; Clint guessed that that wasn't a typical question. "No. I've never done any of that. I'm sorry."

"That's okay. Would you be willing to learn?" Clint asked, and decided to elaborate. "My job, working in law enforcement, is sometimes dangerous. In case the criminals I've caught discover where I live, I would like to know that my children would be safe. Of course, it is very unlikely that that would happen. Also, my son has seemed interested in learning karate."

"I will definitely learn self-defence if I get the job. My younger brother actually teaches judo - I can take lessons with him," Andrea said with a nod, finally getting a handle on the bizarre question.

In the end, he spent thirty minutes talking with Andrea, which meant she left at the time she was supposed to have started. He poured himself a coffee and called in the next applicant, who also turned up early. He hoped he wouldn't fall behind, but now that he started early, he was feeling more confident. He went over the same sort of questions with every applicant and then talked to them for a while to get an understanding of their character, before asking if they had any questions. The shortest interview was merely ten minutes and the longest went to thirty-five minutes, although he tried his hardest to keep them under thirty minutes.

At the end of the day, he was pretty happy with them; five of them were very promising - two of the five told him that they would be willing to do more of a 'babysitter' or 'tutor' type of job if needed. He had a lot of thinking to do. Now he was thinking about having three - two full-time nannies who worked fully for six months and then were on call for one to two months, and then a tutor and babysitter nanny who would come to help the children with school consistently and would be a back-up babysitter.

His main concern was that only _one_ of the applicants - who made it into the final five - was trained in arts of defence.

He had a lot of thinking to do, but would have to do it later - it was just past six when he got back to the quinjet, and he really should get back home.

* * *

 **Thank you for reading!**

 **Sorry if this chapter is slightly more bland, hope you liked it anyway! :D**


	33. Chapter 33

**Author's Note:**

 **Hello! My apologies for the wait! So, in answer to the lovely Cruella's question - I am no longer using my Dad's laptop, I'm now stealing my brothers (he just got a new one) for a while. So, still here! And there will be no 55 day wait.**

 **I have been rather... unmotivated lately in my stories. But, I will not give up! I love this story and Clintasha is still definitely one of my favourites!**

 **Thank you ever so much for the amazing support and reviews - you are all amazing!** **ClintandNatasha; Guest Cruella; MahhKayyLahhBarton; Princess2016; Guest Cruelia!**

* * *

Clint pulled up out of his current dwelling and took a moment to take in the fact that this would be one of the last times he saw the house. Of course, it wasn't _the_ last time; in fact, there was still a week, but things were bound to get more busy when he actually started _packing_.

He took a breath before slipping out of the car and entering the house, finding Bobbi lounging on the couch. "Hey."

"Hey," he replied, wondering why it was so quiet. Surely his children weren't asleep this early? "What's going on?"

She shrugged and sat up properly. "Nothing."

"Where're the kids?" He asked, half-conversationally, half-curiously.

Bobbi looked at him teasingly. "Kids? Oh, didn't you pick them up from school?" She replied with a completely serious expression that threw him off for a second.

"Why would I pick your children up from school?" He replied as casually as he could after the miniature heart attack he'd just had over her first words - they hadn't played this game in a while and he was a little rusty.

"It's the ransom payment for the location of yours," she replied bluntly, maintaining complete eye-contact.

If he hadn't known her, and hadn't known that she had no children herself, he'd actually be worried - damn, he'd forgotten how good at undercover work she was. It didn't help that he couldn't hear his children _at all._ A response was playing on his lips, but a proper one to beat or match hers just wasn't coming. "Damn," he muttered in defeat.

Bobbi laughed, moving over to allow him space to sit down. "They're playing in Coop's room. How did the interviews go?"

Clint chuckled as he sunk down onto the couch before letting out a tired sigh at the question. "Well, I made progress with the nannies, I think…" He announced.

"That's good - who're you hiring then?" Bobbi asked.

Clint shrugged. "Not quite sure yet. I narrowed it down to five, but haven't gotten much further than that." He admitted, concerned when he heard a thud coming from upstairs, only to relax when both children started laughing.

Bobbi nodded. "Well, you don't have long; you'll be back in your house in a week and you don't have any more holiday time."

He pulled a face at her. "Gee, thanks for the reminder. I knew I kept you around for something!"

She chuckled. "So, I know you have a lot going on with the move, but I have some exciting news."

Clint raised a brow. "As exciting as taking down smugglers with nothing but a teddy bear and a ball of twine?" Because the respect she got from _that_ was news all its own.

"Yes, more exciting than _that_!" Bobbi replied, licking her lips nervously before holding up her hand. "I got married."

Well, he was glad he hadn't been eating or drinking anything, because it surely would have been sprayed in surprise. "Seriously?" He asked, staring at the ring on her third finger that he somehow hadn't noticed before. "Why wasn't I invited?" He crossed his arms. "And who the hell did you marry? I didn't even know you were dating anybody!"

Bobbi laughed slightly awkwardly. "See, I would have invited you, but I knew you were too busy to fly over on… I think it would have been twenty minutes' notice." She admitted. "A bit spur of the moment, but obviously I'm not stupid enough to marry a stranger. It's Lance Hunter - you've met him… right?"

Clint looked at her indignantly. "No, I have not met Lance Hunter! How could you marry someone without my butting in to guide you? You could have made a huge mistake, and it was totally preventable." He was half teasing her, but still, a part of him was at least partially upset that he'd not been made privy to this information sooner.

"You'll love him," Bobbi said with a careless wave. "Besides, how weird would it have been if the only person I invited to my wedding was my ex? Come on, Clint, we're not in a soap opera."

"Or _are_ we?" He asked dramatically, pursing his lips like he'd just eaten something horribly sour. "And why did you marry him so suddenly?"

"It wasn't suddenly - he proposed a month or so ago back in England, and it just worked for us," Bobbi replied. "Why are you being so negative about it?"

Sighing, he placed a hand on her shoulder. "Sorry - it just took me by surprise. I'm happy for you." He said earnestly.

"Thank you," she said with a smile. "If you're free, I'd love for you two to meet - only if you promise to not be a jackass."

Clint laughed as though that was the most ridiculous thing. "You know me, Bob - that's asking _way_ too much of me!"

Bobbi rolled her eyes and whacked his arm lightly in mock annoyance. "Shut it," she said, standing up. "I'll catch you later. I have a husband waiting for me and only a few more days off."

"Thanks again, Bob," Clint said gratefully, standing up to give her a hug and see her out.

* * *

It had been a long day, and so when it was finally time to tuck the kids in, Clint was relieved to partake in the more relaxed schedules of the day, including bathing the children, giving them a quick bedtime snack, reading them stories and then putting them to bed. Lila was almost as tuckered out as Clint was, and she was out cold the moment Clint said goodnight.

Cooper took better advantage of having his father there with free time. He requested two stories instead of the usual one, asked Clint curiously about how his day had been, and then described in detail how one of his last days of school had been. Finally, as Clint pulled the covers up to his son's chin, Cooper asked, "Daddy, are you mad?" The question had come out of nowhere, and Clint paused, surprised. He had been getting to his feet, but now he was back on his knees by the bed, fixing his eyes on his son.

"Why would I be mad, Coop?" He asked gently.

Cooper looked away for a few seconds before glancing back at Clint sheepishly, shyly. "Well… I said I missed home - uh, the farm… so it's my fault we're moving… and it's so expensive, stressful, and you're working so hard… I shouldn't have said anything." He said guiltily, eyes watering slightly.

Stunned, Clint ran his fingers through the boy's hair soothingly and kissed his forehead. "No, Coop, no. I don't blame you for anything. I'm glad you were honest with me - your happiness is what makes me happy." He insisted. "And I'm not upset about us moving… it'll take some hard work, but in the end it will be worth it. It's not too expensive, and there's nothing you need to worry about."

Cooper chewed on his bottom lip in thought before letting out a breath and nodding. "Okay. Thank you." Clint couldn't help but smile, and he pulled Cooper into another hug.

"I'll do anything for you two."

"I'll do anything for you, too!"

And now that he had assured Cooper that everything was fine, Clint was finally able to fully believe that everything would work out eventually. He'd make sure it would - for his children.

* * *

Clint picked up a few boxes and walked into the lounge first; it was time to pack. The children were asleep; he had been up since six, gone to work and had work again tomorrow, but he was running out of time. Although the more he did today, the less he needed to do tomorrow.

He looked around the room before starting with the DVDs and videogames, piling them neatly in the cardboard box before throwing soft toys in to fill it up - as he didn't have that many DVDs here - and sealed it. Box one: done.

His eyes lingered on a framed photo of Laura and the kids, and then flickered around the room to the other photos; he got up and collected them all, putting them in boxes with sheets and blankets to keep them safe - he had a _lot_ of spare sheets and blankets… how peculiar. After that, he worked on the living room primarily, packing all the toys left around, decorations, game systems, controls for respective game systems... The room looked very bare with just the couch, coffee table, chair, TV stand and TV in there. It needed a very thorough vacuuming, but it was still very bare.

He then moved on to the hallways, grabbing everything left around, going into the airing cupboard along the way and clearing under the stairs before moving into the kitchen. It was difficult to determine what to pack away and what to leave as they weren't moving yet; there were still a lot of lunches and dinners that needed to be made and he hadn't planned the meals. But he still managed to half the amount of things, and left all of the food for now.

That concluded most of downstairs, and it was only 2am. He could start upstairs tomorrow - technically, later today - but that did take a bit more thought, as he couldn't leave the children without any of their toys or clothes. He could at least start it, though, and leave them both a box or two of things which they still had access to.

Without hesitation, he collapsed onto his bed and instantly fell asleep.

* * *

Clint sat at his desk and looked through the five resumes of his narrowed-down group of nanny candidates, trying to determine who he thought would be best for the first month of the job. He'd decided to find just one candidate to begin with, settle the children in with them for the first few weeks before changing things up and thinking about school too much. The children weren't starting their homeschooling thing for three weeks after they moved, anyway.

He decided on the first applicant, Andrea - she was definitely going to be good for the children and was the only one who didn't excel in either defence or teaching, so if she didn't pan out, he knew which three he would be hiring. If she did, then that was also great; he already knew the children would like her.

Clint had just composed the email and was rereading it to ask about her availability and offer her the job on a trial basis when somebody knocked on his door - he didn't have enough time for this! However, he didn't even have time to consider if he was even going to acknowledge the knocker when they just opened the door and walked in.

"Nat?" He asked in surprise, barely able to process that she was suddenly _here_ , with a styrofoam plate in hand. "What're you doing back so early?" He stood from his chair and went over to her, pulling her into a bone-crushing hug before she could answer. Then he noticed the sandwich on the plate. "Did you grab that from the fridge downstairs? That looks like something Evan made."

"Early? You were complaining the other day that I had been gone too long," Natasha responded, returning the hug and planting a quick kiss onto his lips before pulling away and taking a bite of the sandwich. "That's because Evan did make it for me - I watched him."

"You got Evan to prepare food for someone other than himself? You've got some serious skills," Clint said with awe. He couldn't help but smile. "I've missed you."

Natasha laughed. "I know you have; you are very open with your feelings." She commented teasingly, checking the time. "I'm only dropping by - I have a more detailed debriefing in a few."

Clint pulled a face but didn't let go of her. "Ah, I should have guessed I wasn't your sole reason for traveling all the way back here. And here I thought I was the light of your life!"

Natasha scoffed. "Sorry, but this is reality." She told him with a chuckle. "I should be free in a few hours - what time do you finish work today?"

He mentally calculated how long it would take him to finish up working with the nannies and to go through his remaining reports that were long overdue. "Uh… about five, I'd say."

"If I'm not back by then, I'll come by your place," Natasha said, opening the door before turning back to him. "You haven't moved yet, right?"

"Nope - although the house looks like it's been wrecked by a tornado, just a forewarning." He replied, internally wincing at the thought of all the packing he still had to do.

She nodded, gave him a long kiss and then left without another word.

He looked longingly after her for a few moments before sighing and getting back to work - well, sending the email to Andrea and _then_ starting work.

* * *

When Natasha didn't return, Clint hovered around for as long as he could before heading back home via picking up the kids. He knew it was strange that he could happily - kind of - wait for Natasha to contact him when she was on a mission, but the second she was home, he was forcing himself to stop calling or texting her. He was so anxious to see her, and now that he knew he could, he was surprisingly impatient.

To keep himself occupied, he helped the kids to pack their rooms, Lila needing more help than Cooper, before moving to his room. When he was doing his room, he ordered a pizza, hoping to finish with his things before it got there. He had managed to pack away his clothes, barring his go bag, and everything else in the drawers. It turned out he didn't have that much - must be his inner spy. He was done in only a few minutes.

As he went to walk downstairs, he looked into the bathroom and decided to leave that intact until the day before the move. He went down to the kitchen and began helping the kids set the table for the pizza. Unable to stop himself, he texted Natasha, using the excuse of asking if she wanted him to save her some pizza.

"Look who's become Mr. Impatient," Natasha's voice commented from behind him.

"NATASHA!" Lila almost screamed as she launched herself across the room and into Natasha's arms. Cooper followed for a big hug, too, but didn't make a noise as he did so.

"I was _not_ impatient - I just didn't want to be rude," Clint defended himself - although they both knew that was utter bullshit. When she cocked an eyebrow in a gesture saying just that, he crossed his arms. "Fine, I'll never offer to save food for you ever again." He said with mock petulance.

Lila giggled and leant in to whisper in Natasha's ear, although it was loud enough for Clint to hear it. "Don't worry, I can save food for you, Natasha!"

Natasha gave Lila a big squeeze. "Thank you, Lila."

Clint snorted. "Honey, I wouldn't starve Natasha - I'm just saying I won't ask her if she wants me to save her food when she gets here late." He clarified, although Lila didn't seem to be listening to him.

"Thank you for not making me starve, Lila - you're so much kinder than your father," Natasha said with a teasing smirk at Clint.

"Great, the girls have ganged up against me," Clint groaned, looking pleadingly at Cooper, who still was latched onto Nat's side. "You don't think I'm a monster, do you, my beloved son?"

Cooper stuck out his tongue. "I'm on Natasha's team!"

"You're traitors - the whole lot of you."

Natasha smirked and stood up, rolling her shoulders backwards a few times. "Live with it. What time is pizza getting here?"

Of course, Natasha, having the divine power of the universe, as usual, asked this just as the doorbell rang and a voice called, "Pizza delivery!" As though her breathing the word 'pizza' had the universe scrambling to materialise a pizza in her close vicinity. Clint rolled his eyes - why was _his_ timing never so perfect? - and went and paid the delivery boy, carrying the large box to the kitchen table.

"Alright, we've got half cheese, half sausage." He announced as he began removing slices from the pizza, doling out two cheese to Lila and one sausage to Cooper. He looked at Nat questioningly. "What would you like, Nat?"

She pursed her lips in thought. "Cheese."

He handed her a paper plate with two slices before grabbing two sausage slices for himself. He hadn't realised how starving he was until he took that first bite - and suddenly he'd eaten the whole thing and his stomach was demanding more. He watched contentedly as Lila eagerly overloaded Natasha with in-depth details about her favourite class, math. It was such a pleasant sight, and he found himself wishing that it never ended. Because at least for a while, all was well in the Barton household.

* * *

 **Thank you very much! You are all amazing and incredible!**

 **Oh, and happy birthday to my sister :D**


	34. Packing

**Author's Note:**

 **Thank you SO MUCH for the reviews for this story, it's incredible! Clintasha has been my favourite Marvel ship for the longest time and my brother _still_ teases me at my reaction to Clint's surprise family! I'm so happy that I'm still writing for them and that there are people who read and like it! Thank you!**

 **For all of you who are having troubles, or are upset about anything, my thoughts are with you! I hope, even though it's not much, that this chapter helps you a little!**

* * *

Clint coughed as he lowered the ladder to the attic for the first time in months. The only time this trapdoor had even been opened since the Bartons moved in was when Clint was moving some of their extra boxes of stuff up there. Mostly the attic was full of old furniture that had come with the house and was long past being usable, as well as bins of winter clothes for the kids. Like most creepy-and-totally-haunted attics, as well, it had only one light source - a hanging bare light bulb - and was also lined with boxes that had already been there long before Clint had moved in, and that contained things that were likely older than Clint himself. He generally didn't like going up there, but moving made it a necessity. Besides, he had Natasha with him, so he felt much safer. That woman could murder a ghost if she so desired.

"The chain for the light should be hanging towards the center of the room if you just wanna - yeah, perfect." He strained his eyes, waiting for the dark attic to come into better focus; even with the light on, most of it was still cast in shadow.

"Have you even used anything up here?" Natasha asked with a hint of disgust at the sight.

He dusted off the lid of a plastic storage bin. "Not really - we got here in the middle of winter, so I brought these winter clothes, but it was unusually warm, so we never needed to use them and they kind of just… sat here." He admitted. Of course, he'd packed the storage bins very soon after Laura had died, and he hadn't put much thought into organising what he put into them as he was more worried about packing as much as he could as quickly as possible. To avoid a huge confusion with unpacking back at the farmhouse, where winter clothes would definitely be needed in just a few months, he wanted to sort through what was up here so the clothes wouldn't be missing when needed.

Natasha made a half-understanding noise. "It would be easier if we just pull all of this stuff out of here to sort through it - no point just taking everything back to your farm and sorting it there."

Clint flashed her a mischievous grin. "Yeah, but if I'm given the opportunity to procrastinate, I'll never get any of it done. Besides, I kind of want to poke around in these old boxes and see what kind of treasures are inside." He gestured to the ancient boxes lining the attic walls.

She sent him a mischievous smile that matched his. "Good thing I'm not giving you that opportunity - you're lucky I haven't decided to open up the rest of your boxes you've supposedly packed already."

"Yeah, I'm glad… I feel like you'd unpack them all and redo it the right way and then we'd be a week behind schedule." He replied, pulling all of the winter clothes bins into the clearest space of the attic and dumping out the clothes. He winced at how wrinkled they all were - he hadn't done the best job of folding them… "Alright, so Lila's stuff goes in this bin, Cooper's in that bin, and any other odds and ends go in this bin."

Natasha picked up a few of the clothes. "These ones are too small for Lila now; she's at least one or two sizes too big now."

He took the small pairs of snow pants and tossed them into the odds and ends bin before picking up a green winter coat. He sniffed it once he found some sort of smell wafting toward him, then pulled a face. "Eugh! It smells like dog shit! Why wasn't this washed?" Without thinking further on the answer, he tossed it off to the side to wash.

"Clint, half of Lila's clothes are too small for her," Natasha pointed out, throwing them into the odds and ends bin. "Were these all washed?"

"I'm, uh, not sure at this point. I think I just grabbed everything I could and shoved it into the bins." He admitted, tossing a pair of pink mittens into Lila's bin. Hey, almost everything else would need to be bought for her winter clothes now, but at least he'd be saving two bucks on mittens. He paused as a thought popped into his mind. "Hey, when you were a kid were you ever allowed to play in the snow?" He asked. Natasha was very prickly towards anyone who brought up her past, but he was one of those few people that she didn't murder for it.

"We did drills in the snow; our toes and legs got really cold if we stopped moving. Very effective motivation," Natasha answered, tossing a few hats into Cooper's and Lila's bins.

Clint nodded slightly and decided not to ask anything else. "Alright, I think it's safe to assume that all these snow pants will be too small, so let's just dump the rest into the odds and ends bin."

Natasha nodded. "That might be for the best." She said, throwing items into the correct directions with precision. "What's next?"

Slightly excited, Clint rose to his feet, offering a hand to her and pulling her up as well. "Now we explore." He went over to a large cardboard box that smelled like age and death itself, not letting the stench deter him. "The owners of the house before me said that these were here long before _they_ moved in, so they're at least twenty years old. Nobody knows whose they are." He said. After hearing the history of the boxes, he'd been meaning for a long time to come up here and check out what was inside of them.

She looked over at the boxes with disinterest and pursed her lips. "You want me to look through somebody else's junk?"

He rolled his eyes at her. "Oh, don't be a stick in the mud! Imagine what could be in here! Imagine how old this stuff is! And nobody else has looked before!" He was getting increasingly excited.

"I'll happily let you go crazy up here whilst I organise and repack your boxes downstairs - then we'll both be doing something we want to," Natasha replied with a smile too sweet.

Clint opened the box and pulled out the old dress at the top. "Hey, check this out! This has gotta be eighteen hundreds!" He held it up for her to see, coughing a little at the dust that was shaken loose from the fabric.

Natasha waved a hand in front of her face to dispel the dust. "I prefer jeans," she commented before taking the first step out of the basement. "I'll be downstairs; let me know if you find anything interesting."

"Aw, Nat! Don't leave me up here! What if the ghost of Gertrude McOldie murders me?" He protested as she made her way to the trapdoor. "And then you won't get to see me in this sexy dress!" He held it against himself, laughing slightly at how tiny the dress was - it was full-length, yet it barely reached his shins.

She let out a laugh before disappearing completely from the basement and leaving him alone.

Clint tried to ignore the way the shadows suddenly seemed darker and more… animated, and turned back to dig through his first box of historical treasures.

* * *

Two hours and four cobwebs to the face later, Clint climbed back down from the attic feeling rather bummed with most of what he'd found. Sure, there had been birth records from the mid-eighteen hundreds, and there had been some beautiful old necklaces and shoes and two more dresses, but the majority of the boxes contained really boring things like old copies of the Dictionary, ten copies of the same version of the Bible, an empty filing cabinet and some smaller pieces of musty furniture. Sighing, he ran his fingers through his hair to smooth it down before turning into the kitchen - to find several neat stacks of boxes whose labels had been crossed out and changed. He went into the living room where he found Natasha, slicing open the next box he'd already packed. "Been busy, I take it?" He asked, sitting beside her on the ground.

"Toys, DVDs, blankets, clothes," Natasha listed, pointing to boxes which were clearly labelled, more specifically than she had spoken - for example, Lila's clothes, Cooper's clothes. Natasha then stood up and kicked one of five black trash bags. "Broken toys, clothes that are too small, stained or ripped clothing or blankets."

He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "You really went to town on my packing, didn't you? Hey, it's hard getting everything in the house packed up by yourself, alright?" He halfheartedly defended.

"I guess I've had more practice than you," Natasha replied with a shrug.

"Oh, move houses with two kids often, do you?" He asked teasingly, helping her sort through some of Cooper's clothes.

Natasha shrugged. "It's just packing- the only difference is the size of clothing and different types of toys."

"Ah. So I should definitely let you pack up my closet arsenal, then?" He asked, this time only partially teasing her. He had yet to pack up the guns and other weapons stored in the safe in his closet, and he was sure she was a pro at that.

"Already done," Natasha informed him with a smirk.

He resisted the urge to stare at her owlishly. "Seriously, are you human? Are you sure you're not part of some superior species?"

Natasha didn't reply; her only response was to send him another smirk and stand up. She approached him. "Maybe you're just less than me."

Clint threw a ratty old shirt into the trash pile and sent her an indignant look. "Hey, now, don't go inflating my ego _too_ much." He said sarcastically.

She sent him a half smirk, half flirtatious look but didn't reply for a while. Suddenly, she looked at him thoughtfully. "When we start the long-distance relationship, are we still exclusive?"

He was taken off-guard by the sudden deep question, but thankfully was able to get his thoughts together fairly quickly. "Oh, uh, yeah. I mean, of course - why wouldn't we be?" He asked, concerned.

"I've never done that, that's all. It seems strange to fully commit to somebody or something when you don't see them that much. I guess the more natural approach is a 'when we're together' kind of thing," Natasha replied nonchalantly.

Something about that just wasn't very appealing. "That sounds like you want to see other people when we're not physically together," he said in a teasing voice, although he was slightly concerned.

She shrugged. "It was just an idea."

"Wait, you actually _do_ want to see other people?" He blurted, not quite able to fathom it. He hadn't quite realised how much their relationship meant to him, not the way he did now as he tried to imagine what life would be like without it. He almost felt dependent on it.

"No need to sound so offended, it was just an idea. Besides, you're the one moving over a hundred miles away," Natasha replied, sending him a 'what's wrong with you' kind of look before sealing up a box.

He glared at her mildly. "I'm doing what's best for my children. That doesn't mean I want things between us to change - at least, not like that. If you're not happy being in a relationship with me, let's end things now instead of dragging it on." His heart was pounding harder than ever as he prayed that she wouldn't take him up on the offer.

"I forgot how over-dramatic you could be sometimes. That is not what I meant at all; I don't want to end things with you," she responded, not even looking at him as she continued to occupy herself with his belongings.

Clint sagged in relief and allowed himself to focus once more on what was bugging her, adopting a mindset of curiosity instead of one of dread. "So what did you mean?" He asked, mindlessly folding a pair of jeans as he kept his gaze on his girlfriend.

Natasha shook her head. "Nothing. I was just checking what we were. That's all."

He raised a brow. "Why do I get the feeling you're deflecting? Come on, you can tell me. You know I won't tell anybody - except Cooper, Lila, Bobbi, Fury, Coulson… I'm totally reliable," he said, trying not to laugh at the face she pulled at him in response.

"Nothing to say, especially now," Natasha replied with a roll of her eyes and the tiniest bit of a chuckle. She moved a box and looked at him. "Well, you're all packed - except for your bed and other pieces of furniture. How about we make sure they're well-used before the move?"

Liking where this was going, Clint waggled his eyebrows. "What a wonderful idea."

* * *

 **Thank you ever so much for reading!**

 **Now, everybody, if there's something you'd like to see, PLEASE let me know! The only idea I have (Which I've started) is actually super boring and... not very good. So, i'd love some inspiration! Thank you in advance!**


	35. Moving Day

**Author's Nte:**

 **Thank you so much for an amazing response on the last chapters! And I absolutely loved how many ideas were given! I really appreciate them! And if they aren't used, then I'll just apologise now!**

 **Thank you to the reviewers for the last chapter: MahhKayyLahhBarton; Guest Cruella; KnowInsight; Halle; Princess2016.**

 **I hope you are all well!**

* * *

Natasha still had mixed feelings about the move and wasn't completely sure how she felt about the whole situation. No, that was a lie - she knew exactly how she felt about it, but it would not be polite to say as much. She would rather put on the facade that she was unsure about her feelings in general than admit them to anybody else, including Clint.

Clint had always been one of the people who Natasha was more than likely to tell things to, however, the second it was about him or any information that could make him uncomfortable, distressed or upset, she closed down. The long undercover mission at Stark Industries couldn't have come at a better time - it gave her chance to avoid Clint and the whole situation.

Unfortunately, though, the mission was over and Clint was still moving, both home and job location. This meant she did have to deal with it directly, and she had almost thoroughly screwed up when she had asked him if they should break up. In all honesty, that would have been a lot easier for her, a clean slate - she'd done it before.

Natasha didn't know how to do a long distance relationship! Hell, she wasn't even sure she was doing the close distance relationship thing correctly! Or if they were officially in a relationship - although, she was pretty sure they were.

One thing that Natasha had figured out during the relationship with Clint was that she was clueless about relationships - even though she had been married before. Somehow, the relationship with Clint was a lot more complicated and peculiar than her previous one with Alexi - and she was working with the KGB at the time. She needed to remedy that, needed to open up in a whole new way and open a channel of communication between them which would enable them to not only continue their relationship but develop it even more.

At least they would be able to work together without having to work directly together - that could be a nice development to see how they stand together.

* * *

Natasha ducked in through the back door, disabling the alarm temporarily before activating it again. It wasn't very glamorous, the way she snuck in and out, but the others still didn't know how she did it - so that was fun. Her ears perked up when she heard a rather strange noise - somebody was singing.

Usually, she would be instantly alarmed at the unfamiliar sound - however, something in her recognised the voice. Stepping through the empty house silently, becoming aware that the song being half sung, half hummed was Ed Sheeran's 'Thinking Out Loud'. She perched at the edge of the kitchen, with a full view of Clint singing to himself in the lounge. It was an oddly relaxing situation, although, she had to wonder why she'd never heard him sing to his children with an amazing voice like that.

"Take me into your loving arms, kiss me under the light of a thousand stars…" He hummed, then paused and looked over at her, looking mildly surprised, before smiling widely and going over to her. "Place your head on my beating heart…" He took her hand and led her to the center of the empty room before twirling her as he continued to sing.

She instantly allowed herself to fall into his rhythm, following his lead as they danced slowly and intimately. It had been a long time since she'd danced with anyone this way. She twirled again before being pulled back and pressed to him, and as they rocked back and forth she leant her head forward to rest on his shoulder with a content sigh. She wasn't a sucker for the mushy kind of romance, but this… she could get used to this. Soon she was singing along with him - she didn't know the song very well, but she loved the way their voices harmonised. Not that she'd say that out loud; that was distinctly mushy-sounding. She stopped before him and just memorised his voice.

"... We found love right where we are…" He finished, voice fading to a low hum as they slowly ended their dance.

"How is that the first time I've heard you sing?" She asked after a few minutes of enjoying the silence.

He shrugged. "It's hard to come up with a reason to sing on a mission." He replied teasingly.

Natasha let out a semi-sarcastic laugh, whacking his arm lightly. "Shut up," she muttered light-heartedly.

"But I thought you liked the sound of my voice!" Clint protested, sounding mock-offended.

"I've heard better," Natasha teased, not even pretending to be serious as her lips were turned up.

He crossed his arms over his chest with a huff. "Maybe that's why you've never heard me sing before." He stated indignantly, although he looked to be fighting a smile.

Natasha chuckled, lightly pushing his arms down away from his chest before holding him closer and swaying to the imaginary music. "Hum to me."

"I dunno… maybe we should ask one of those better that you've heard…" He teased, wrapping his arms around her.

She looked around with pursed lips. "You're the only one here… I don't mind settling."

Clint pretended to think for a good two seconds before picking up a tune and swaying to the music lightly, taking the lead once again.

* * *

Clint walked through the house at a slow pace, knowing he needed to get on the road soon but unable to just leave without doing one final walkthrough. They hadn't lived there for long, but there were still so many memories they'd made in this house. They'd come here a broken, incomplete family and were leaving it with hearts that had mostly healed, and with the chasm filled just enough by Natasha's presence. It was in this house that he had come to realise just how much he loved his partner.

While living in this house, Clint had experienced what it was like to be a normal, apple-pie dad. His kids had attended public school, had made friends, and they were free to go out and do things without fear of being recognised. His kids could brag about his 'job' to their classmates and go to birthday parties and field trips, and he could go to parent-teacher conferences and hear his kids' teachers praise the intelligence his kids had in excess. He'd never thought he'd get to experience something so mundane, and yet something still so rewarding and unique.

He paused outside of Cooper's room, where he'd spent many nights comforting both children when he would find Lila, in tears and missing her mother, had climbed into bed with her equally heartbroken brother. Many tears had been shed together in this room. That was something he would never miss.

He made his way downstairs and toured the kitchen, remembering all the meals he'd put together with Natasha, all the nights he'd spent multitasking between getting dinner made and helping the kids with their homework. In the living room memories of movie nights, playing video games and reading to his kids came to mind, making him smile. He was gonna miss this place.

Still, the pull to return to their original home was getting stronger by the minute. It was time to go.

After locking the front door behind himself, Clint climbed into his car and drove off without looking back.

Cooper and Lila were staying at a friend's house for the next two nights while Clint would head to the farmhouse, unpack the necessities and get it all ready for when they arrived. He was also planning on getting the nanny situated beforehand.

The drive was only four hours, but it felt like it was taking forever and he began to wonder if they'd moved even farther than he'd thought originally. But several glances at the clock confirmed that it had only been an hour and a half. When he finally did pull onto the gravel driveway, his heart was pounding for reasons he couldn't quite explain. Maybe it was just seeing the house where he'd spent most of his married life in, or maybe it was because he hadn't laid eyes on the place in a little over a year. Memories began to assault him as he slowly drew closer and finally parked the car.

"Well, let's see how dusty it is," he said to himself as he worked up the will to get out of the car. He'd hired a little old lady to keep the house in general working order so it wouldn't be completely abandoned, but he was certain it would definitely need some cleaning up.

The front porch creaked and groaned as he went up to the front door, and he made a mental note to reinforce it later so nobody would fall through - he had a lot of his old renovating work to do, he could already tell.

The house was dark, and when he opened the door he was hit with a wall of scents along the lines of dust and an elderly woman's perfume. It smelled like he had come to a nursing home. He flipped on the lights and began to wander around, taking in the sight of his beloved home, untouched for the most part. He'd missed this place.

Several framed photos hung along the walls, each showing images of either a much younger-looking Cooper and Lila, Clint and/or Laura, or the whole family together. At the sight of Laura's smiling face, his lips turned up in a small smile as well. Even in photos, her smile was contagious.

In the living room - which had just recently been vacuumed, he noted - he found several pieces of old furniture, well-worn from movie nights, snuggling and, much longer ago, rocking fussing newborns back to sleep. The pictures lining the walls in here were of baby Cooper and Lila, including one of Clint holding Cooper for the first time and Laura feeding a gurgling Lila a spoonful of mashed peas. Once again, Clint found himself smiling at the memories, a bittersweet feeling rising in his chest. _Oh, Laura._

The kitchen was completely empty save for the bigger appliances, as was the dining room. The bathrooms were bare as well, and the bedrooms were only distinguishable by the colours of their walls. Just waiting for the things that made them work to be placed inside.

He went out to the garage to find all of their boxes from the other house - he'd had them brought here the day before. Sighing, knowing he has lots of work ahead of him and wanting the house to be _home_ for the kids when they arrived, Clint picked up the first box and began the process of sorting through its contents.

* * *

 **Thank you very much for reading!**

 **It was only now that I realised how short this chapter was, but it still does exactly what I wanted!**

 **Happy Novemeber.**


	36. Unpacking, organisation and confessions

**Author's Note:**

 **Hello, all. It's been just over three weeks, and apologise to those who were waiting, but, tbh, it's not THAT late. So somebody asking if I'd abandoned the story was a little 'What?'.**

 **Anyway, there is a lot of things happening at once right now in my life, a long list, so, unfortunately, I am not able to write as much as I used to. In fact, that time has halved and will potentially get shorter. Therefore, this story only has one or possibly two chapters after this one with a proper ending.**

 **I have loved writing this story, which is why I've actively put time and planning into giving it an ending which you'd all hopefully like (After Violet said I wasn't allowed to make it super depressing and angsty).**

 **Thank you very much for all of the reviews! It means the world to me.**

* * *

Natasha's movements were extremely calculated, controlled and slow as she landed the quinjet in the designated spot. This was going to be the actual first time she was going to physically see the farm - she had heard about it on several occasions. In fact, she could visualise what she presumed it looked like from the detailed descriptions she had gotten over the last year. However, she couldn't just not turn up; she gave her word.

This would have been a lot easier, however she was pulled into a crucial meeting - one that she probably should have paid more attention to.

She had successfully gotten tomorrow off, and as tomorrow was Friday, it meant she had the whole weekend. So, even though she didn't going to be travelling down with him as planned, she was only be getting there a few hours after him.

A weekend in the house where Clint lived with his deceased wife for years, conceived two children and, if her memory was correct, where Lila was actually born. There were a lot of memories and none of them really involved her - that freaked her out. She could never live up to Laura as a wife, parent, or general human being.

Oh, why did Clint have to move back to this place? She knew he did it for the children, but surely they were too young to know how to make big decisions? Then again, what would she know about children and decisions?

As she walked to the exact coordinates, she wondered whose idea it was to live in the middle of nowhere with pretty much no contact with the outside world. She presumed it must have been primarily Laura, as the second she was 'out of the picture' he moved with the children and put them straight into public school. If it had been his idea, surely he would have remained at the farm. She did not know enough about his background - then again, she only found out he was married with two children a year ago, after his wife had died of cancer.

She froze when she came in direct view of the farm; it wasn't anything like she'd imagined it. In fact, seeing it for real was… well, weird. No point staring at it, though, she told herself before forcing herself to take the first step of many to get to the house.

As she walked up the stairs onto the porch, she decided to knock - just in case. It was also the polite thing to do.

Clint opened the door ten seconds later, looking extremely happy to see her. "Hey! I was wondering when you'd get here. Come on in."

Natasha stepped into the house, her eyes instinctively scanning every inch of the space, working out her exits and examining it for dangers - she was also judging everything. It looked a lot cleaner than she thought it would be. "Hey," she greeted, almost absentmindedly. "How does it feel to be back here?"

He put his hands in his pockets and shrugged. "Mixed feelings on it, honestly. But overall it's nice to be back." He replied, leading her down the hall and into a spacious kitchen. "Want a drink?"

"Whiskey? Vodka?" Natasha listed, looking at him, hoping that he meant one of those sorts of drinks.

He chuckled and reached up into a cabinet well above the fridge. "Ah, yes, the more popular adult drinks are up here." He grabbed a bottle of vodka from the cabinet and two glasses. He poured a fair amount of the drink into each glass and passed one to her before taking a swig of his own.

Natasha forced herself to not down the whole drink in one, and just gulped down half of it. "What are we doing tonight?"

Clint shrugged again, a lopsided smile on his face. "Well, the nanny doesn't arrive until tomorrow, so we've got the whole place to ourselves…"

"So… tidying? Sorting out? Reorganising?" Natasha listed. To be honest, she didn't want to interact with Clint on an intimate level in this house; it was too weird and she was hoping it just didn't come up.

He furrowed his brows but thankfully took the hint. "Um… okay. Yeah, actually, I could definitely use your help with unpacking and keeping things orderly."

Natasha nodded, downed the rest of her drink and looked around for the boxes. "Great! Best get started, then!"

* * *

Six hours later, Clint was sweating over the keys of the old piano in the main room as he carefully disinfected and polished each one. Somewhere along the line Natasha had taken total control over the cleaning efforts, and whenever Clint tried shifting their activities from cleaning to something more intimate, she would hurriedly assign him some new chore to do while quickly going off to do her own. He was, understandably, confused by the behaviour, but was hesitant to call her out on it. He was tremendously relieved when he had finished polishing the last key. "Okay, the piano is in better condition than ever… why don't we take a break?" He suggested to Natasha, who was literally on top of the fridge as she sorted through the cabinets closer to the ceiling.

"I'm nearly finished - just on the last cabinet," she answered, not even turning to look at him. "How about you go and strip the kids' beds - we'll need to wash their sheets, and it will be nice for them to be the same ones they remember them in."

He sighed and trudged over to her. "What's wrong, Nat?" He asked tiredly, gently pulling on her leg as it hung right by his head.

"So much bacteria could have manifested in the time you were gone - that bedding needs to be washed. Yours, too," Natasha replied, moving her leg onto the fridge and away from him.

Clint raised an eyebrow at her and cursed his shortness. "No, seriously. What's wrong?" He urged.

Natasha threw her sponge into the sink without looking. Replaced a few empty tupperware into the cabinet and closed it. "Nothing," she answered, turning to face him this time before jumping down gracefully.

He backed up so she didn't land on him and leant against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest. "Natasha, you've been acting off all night. Tell me what's eating at you."

"I just like cleaning - not my fault the only thing on your mind is sex," Natasha answered pretty sharply.

Clint frowned at the barbs in her tone. "It was only a suggestion - you could have just said no outright."

"Fine. No. I don't want to have sex here," Natasha stated, grabbed a few cloths and some window cleaner and flash with bleach and headed to the bathroom.

He didn't follow her for a second as realisation hit him. She didn't want to have sex in the same house where he and his wife had once… Clint sighed and finally followed after her, leaning against the doorframe and watching as she scrubbed the toilet bowl. "I'm sorry I brought it up." He said sincerely. If amends weren't made now, the rest of the night would be hell.

"It's fine," Natasha muttered out pretty clearly, but didn't turn to look at him.

Well, her tone implied that there was still something to be resolved and/or appeased. "No, it's not fine. I should have known better and I put you in an uncomfortable situation. It's on me."

She shook her head. "It's not on you, stop being ridiculous."

Sighing, Clint shoved his hands in his pockets. "Well, I feel like I needed to let you know that I'm sorry," he clarified.

"You don't have to apologise, Clint, I understand," Natasha muttered, dropping something into the basin of the toilet and flushing the chain.

He raised a brow slightly. "Alright, good." He said somewhat awkwardly, wondering what else he should say.

Natasha let out a heaving sigh and turned to face him. "Listen, I don't know when I'll be okay with actually being in this house; it's just got too much history and… gives me the creeps." She looked away from him slightly. "I know it's stupid, but this place weirds me out more than the Red Room."

He wasn't really sure how to reply to that at first; part of him was slightly offended, while the rest of him was concerned. Did that mean she wouldn't be visiting? "I'd think of it more like a happy history. Lots of children laughing in this house over the years - so now it's got a happy atmosphere." He offered lamely.

She actually raised her eyebrows slightly at that response, as if she couldn't believe that that was supposed to be comforting - though, there was the shimmer of confusion too. "Yes, your children will be thrilled to be back here," she replied carefully, her expression becoming more confused than anything else.

Clint sighed. "I meant that you don't need to be creeped out because of the history of this place - there are so many good memories, so much good history that to me this house has a joyful aura to it permanently." He explained, leaving out the part that the kitchen area was excluded from this description for a while, considering that was where he'd found Laura crouched in a pool of blood and vomit.

"That's not what I meant, Clint, and you know it," Natasha responded, her tone somehow more closed off than before.

He knew. "Yeah… Sorry. I'm just… I mean, does this mean you won't be coming around? Not to visit or anything?"

Natasha sighed with a semi-shrug. "I don't know, Clint. You know I always preferred being on the base, anyway," she replied, weakly and unsure.

"Yeah, but not even for a visit every once and awhile? For the more… serious stuff we could meet somewhere else, but since this is where the kids'll be spending most of their time, it would be best for you to just visit here to see them," Clint replied.

"I'm still gathering my thoughts on everything; I didn't know it would affect me like this," Natasha confessed. "I'm sure the place will grow on me, though."

Well, that was the best he could hope for. He nodded. "I'm sure it will."

"I'm going to get started on the attic - maybe you could sort out some food and we'll eat in a bit?" Natasha suggested, already picking up her cloth.

Clint shrugged, glad to change the subject to something more casual. "Sure. I think there're a few frozen pizzas in the freezer." And with that he wandered into the kitchen and set about his assigned task.

* * *

Natasha pushed the final box into the neat pile - she had decided to not get rid of anything in the attic, apart from some moldy sweets - as it was all memories. There were so many items which could have went back either side of the family - Laura's or Clint's - and it would nice for the children to go through it when they're older and discovering the history.

As she slipped over to look through one of the boxes again to organise it into the individual's clothing, she heard Clint call her down.

She looked at the place, making a mental note to vacuum up here at a later date before stepping out of the attic.

"You like green peppers on your pizza, right?" Clint reaffirmed as he watched her descend.

"I do," she confirmed as she stepped onto the ground. She offered him a smile, trying to relieve any tension she had caused before pulling the ladder up and then pushing it up to close the attic.

He smiled easily and nodded. "Good, because that's all I could find. Apparently, the housekeeper really likes green peppers."

Natasha let out a chuckle. "Must be my lucky day, then," she commented before side-stepping him and heading down the stairs.

The two of them began eating pizza in silence, with some music playing on the radio in the background. Eventually, they started to talk about idle things regarding work, which then turned into an in-depth conversation about work that grew. Their whole relationship began based entirely around work, so it was easy for them. It definitely helped Natasha to be a little bit more comfortable in her surroundings and they ended up sleeping in the living room. It didn't even seem like a compromise; he didn't ask or indicate at any time for them to go to another room, so when sleep took over them, it didn't matter.

* * *

 **Thank you for reading! I hope you all are having a great December!**


	37. Fin

**Author's Note:  
**

 **Hello! Welcome to the final chapter!**

 **Thank you to discordchick, Guest Cruelia. for reviewing the last chapter!**

 **Right, here's the nicely-lengthed ending.**

* * *

Andrea sighed, keeping her eyes closed despite her burning curiosity as to why this location needed to be kept a secret. She was just glad she hadn't been blindfolded - if that had been suggested, she would have changed her mind about the job right then and there. Nothing good ever came of being driven around by a strange man while being blindfolded.

"We're pulling into the driveway now." Her new boss, Mr. Barton, updated her as the car started up an incline. She was eagerly awaiting the 'big reveal'. She'd been told plenty about the house where she'd be spending the next few months, and had seen a few pictures of the inside, but something told her that seeing it would be a much more grand experience in person.

"Can I open my eyes yet?" She asked as pleasantly as she could, trying not to sound impatient. Ever since the beginning of this car ride she'd been nervous about giving off the right impression to Mr. Barton; she felt more self-conscious than when she'd been on stage for a high school play.

The man chuckled good-naturedly, helping to put some of her worries to rest, and the car came to a stop. "Okay, now you can open them."

At first she had to blink furiously to readjust to the bright mid-afternoon sunlight shining through the windshield, but once she could properly see the house, she almost gasped in surprise. The house was enormous, but not unwelcoming, settled on what looked like over an acre of land. From what she could see, the backyard looked to be sprawling hills and patches of trees. It was gorgeous! "Oh my… this is amazing!" She complimented.

Clint Barton smiled in appreciation and opened his door. "Thanks." He got out and stretched, and she followed suit, getting her bag from the backseat and pulling it over her shoulder.

She followed him up the front steps and into the entryway of the old house, pleased to find a well-lit, friendly interior decorated with pictures of a happy family. The house was over fifty years old, she'd been told, but it certainly didn't seem like it. It was perfectly clean and smelled fresh and inviting. She could definitely enjoy living here.

"Here, you can set your bag in your room before we start the grand tour- it's downstairs, immediately to your right." He instructed, showing her to the basement door. She went down the flight of steps to find a large, open room with plenty of windows and equipped with a full screening area. Her room was off to the right, and was even bigger than the one in her brother's house, where she'd been staying before this. There was a spacious closet, a fully-functional attached bathroom… yes, she was going to like it here. She deposited her things in her room and climbed back up to the first floor.

"Your house is beautiful," she noted, but was surprised to find not only Mr. Barton, but a redheaded woman that Andrea had never seen before. Had she been there this whole time? "Oh, hello! I'm Andrea." She introduced herself politely, giving the woman a friendly smile.

The woman's eyes scanned over her and she made a sound of dissatisfaction. "Yeah, I know," she commented before walking off.

Andrea furrowed her eyebrows at the strange woman, confused at how… closed off she was. She turned and gave her boss a questioning look. "Did I say something wrong?"

The man sighed and shook his head, seeming disappointed or at least lightly annoyed. "No, she can just be kind of… abrasive, at times." He answered. "She's not taking this move very well."

The way he worded that confused her even more. Who was that woman? Mr. Barton had never mentioned remarrying, or dating, or having another family member living with them. Clearly they knew each other very well, though. Could she be a friend? Neighbour? Coworker? For a moment, a panicked thought of _please tell me_ THAT _isn't Lila_! ran through her mind before she shook it away, reminding herself that Lila was six years old. Still, she was unbelievably confused.

"Ah, I get it… and she's… ?" She'd meant to guess, but nothing came to her that made complete sense, so she just left it open and hoped she wasn't being rude.

"His mistress," the woman called through.

Clint Barton shot an exasperated look at the doorway through which the woman had disappeared earlier. "No, not my _mistress_." He corrected her, before turning back to Andrea. "She and I have been… dating… for the past few months. We've kind of kept it on the down-low, so the kids aren't really aware of it." He informed her, his tone telling her that she wasn't to tell the kids. Although, she couldn't help but wonder if she really _was_ his mistress. "That's Natasha. The kids will be getting here tomorrow, so I'll do the rest of the introductions then."

"Oh, okay," Andrea replied, unable to _not_ have questions, but decided to limit the ones she actually asked. "Wait… why doesn't she like the move?" She asked quietly, not wanting to somehow have the woman - Natasha - overhear and be offended.

"Well… she's staying behind. We're going to be much farther apart than before," Mr. Barton said rather sadly.

"She doesn't need our life story, Clint," Natasha said walking into the room, handing Mr. Barton a beer and then walking straight out in a different direction.

Was she like a spectre, just floating throughout the rooms? Andrea felt like she was out of her depth in regards to interacting with this woman.

Mr. Barton took a small swig of his beer before putting it down on the counter. "Alright, let's get the tour done."

* * *

Andrea couldn't help but smile eagerly as the children were let into the house, immediately gaping at the house that they'd apparently lived most of their lives in. The joy on the younger child's face was enough to make Andrea instantly like her - she'd forgotten how much she loved the beautiful innocence of children. The older brother, Cooper, was more contained, but no less enthusiastic. When the kids noticed Andrea, they both smiled happily.

"Hi, I'm Lila!" The little girl introduced, seeming to wiggle in excitement. Andrea kept her tone as upbeat and friendly as possible, extending a hand to the little girl.

"Hello, Lila - I'm Andrea. And you must be Cooper." She said, turning her smile to the boy. He shuffled his feet shyly and nodded.

Mr. Barton came up behind the boy and clapped him on the shoulder. "Come on, son, be a gentleman," he urged with a small amused smile. Cooper blushed and extended his hand for her to shake. She took it and shook, pretending not to notice how flustered he was.

"Nice to meet you," the boy said quietly - but he was still smiling, if not a bit awkwardly, so at least there was that. She was sure he'd adjust quickly enough.

The rather sweet moment of introduction was suddenly cut short when both children visibly perked up before sprinting past Andrea and into that Natasha woman's waiting arms. Andrea held back a defeated sigh; it was only natural that they had a more favoured woman than her, after all. Still, she found herself hoping that someday they'd react the same way to her.

"Natasha!" Lila cried, her arms firmly around the woman's neck. "We missed-ed you!"

"I missed you both, too!" Natasha replied with such perkiness in her voice that Andrea had to take a step back out of shock. "You have to tell me _everything_ you did!"

Cooper was all too eager to pipe up. "I stayed at Mark's house for _two days_ and we played laser tag and we got to jump on his trampoline!" He informed her.

"And _I_ got to play house with Kelly!" Lila chimed in. Andrea chuckled a little in the background - oh, kids. Well, at least now she already had a good feel of what each child liked to do.

"That's great!" Natasha replied, giving them both a squeeze before letting them go. She glanced at Andrea with a blank expression before her face brightened up again as she looked at the children. "Why don't you both go and check out your rooms - you can show Andrea them too!"

Before she could quite process it, Andrea was being dragged by two kids up the staircase, both of them rapidly rambling on and on about how excited they were and how awesome their rooms were.

* * *

Clint enjoyed the peace that nighttime brought as he and Natasha sat in the living room, casually talking with an easiness he'd missed for a while now. Andrea had tucked in the children two hours prior, allowing him and Natasha more time to talk and relax on the couch, and was now presumably asleep in the guest room downstairs. The TV was on, the show some sort of documentary about sloths, but they weren't paying much attention to it.

After they'd reached midnight and were still in the living room, talking, Clint sighed and stood. He had to get some sleep so he could be well-rested for work tomorrow. "I think it's time we went to bed," he commented as he stretched.

Natasha didn't stand and instead tilted her head to the side before glancing around. "Clint," she started ominously, "would you be willing to do something for me?"

He wasn't sure how he felt about the tone she used. "Yes," he answered almost immediately.

She hummed in response, glancing at the back wall for a second. "Would you be willing to build an extension so we could have a completely different bedroom for the two of us?"

He hadn't been expecting that, and his heart leapt a little at what she was implying. If she wanted a bedroom here… "Of course," he replied eagerly, a smile growing on his face. "It'll take some time, but of course!"

Natasha smiled; he was sure it looked relieved. "Great, then I won't have to stay at the base or on the couch."

The thought made him so happy that for a moment he wasn't sure what to say. "Well, I'll get as much done as I can before your next visit," he eventually promised.

"I predict you'd get very little done; turns out I'll be able to visit a bit more than we first estimated," she admitted.

He raised a brow in surprise. "Really? Why?"

"I did something crazy," she told him in a hushed tone, obviously not wanting anybody to overhear her. He knew it must be serious when she leant forward. "I transferred to the same base as you."

Clint outright stared at her in shock, unsure if he was hearing correctly. Natasha wasn't one to make such big changes out of the blue. "You're… wait, you transferred?" He exclaimed, as though needing confirmation for something he had already understood.

"Yes," she confirmed shortly, looking up at him with a blank expression.

His smile returned instantly. "That's… that's great, Nat!" He didn't question her on why she did, not wanting to really press it. He was just glad she did. "Does that mean you'll be moving in here?"

Her eyes actually widened and she leant backwards. "Hell no. We are definitely not there yet; I don't even have a place to sleep here. The base is the only home I need."

"Ah. But you'll be around more often," he affirmed.

Natasha gave another nod. "Yes, it's not that far from here- in fact, it's ten hours closer by car than it would have been."

Well, he certainly couldn't argue with that. "Have I told you lately how amazing you are?" He asked with a giant grin.

"Nope," Natasha answered as she finally stop up.

He slowly pulled her into his arms and looked down at her before kissing her. "Well, you're amazing, and beautiful, and I'm so very lucky to have you in my life," he said earnestly, but kept his voice from getting too mushy so it wouldn't put her off. She hated mushy.

"I know, you'd be nothing without me," she teased with a smirk.

With a chuckle, he pulled her into another kiss.

* * *

Natasha had instantly thrown herself into work at the new base, as well as going back to her now old base for half of the week. Even though she had transferred, she still had existing work which needed to be finished and the odd mission she had to go on. She didn't mind the extra travelling at all, nor did she mind doing double the amount of work and prepping for double the amount of missions she had done before.

Transferring bases had increased her workload, even though she was now at a smaller base, and it was honestly the best decision Natasha had ever made.

However, Clint had asked her a few times if she wanted to go back to his for dinner to see the children, but she was actually too busy. So, apart from a five am breakfast and an extended lunch on two different days, she hadn't seen him that much.

Today, however, was different; it was Wednesday morning and she was given the day off. It seemed that all agents were entitled to one full day off a week unless they were on an extended undercover mission. The maximum they allowed agents to work was 13 days, and then they get two days off. Natasha briefly wondered if the agents would be softer and weaker here because of it, or more relaxed and attentive at work. She'd have to pay attention to that in the next few weeks.

Natasha had changed into 'casual' clothes, which consisted of leggings and a long top… or short dress… she did not understand this ludicrous fashion. Either way, it was comfy, practical and suitable for hanging out with Clint's kids - who she was leaving to meet up with now.

She enjoyed the hours-long trek, deciding to park a bit further from Clint's and walk to the farm instead of her usual jog - the scenery was really spectacular. Her time was cut slightly short when she saw Clint outside, which obviously meant he had already seen her coming.

"Hey, Nat!" He called once she got close enough. He was sitting on the porch railing, watching her with a smile, while Cooper and Lila were swinging rambunctiously on the porch swing. Natasha thought amusedly that he was the only agent she knew that was small enough to sit on the railing without breaking it or falling on his ass - he was taller than her, but in comparison to the other male agents on the base… well, he was a shorty. Best keep those thoughts to herself, though.

"Hey," she called back idly, not speeding up her pace - he can wait for her. "Doing nothing productive, I see."

Clint pulled a face at her, swinging his legs idly. "I'll have you know that I've spent the past week working doggedly on that new addition - I'd say I'm allowed to be a potato every once in a while."

"Daddy, you _look_ like a potato!" Lila cried mischievously.

Clint pursed his lips at her. "Thanks, Liles."

Natasha chuckled under her breath. "Children are delightfully honest. Hey, Lila," she greeted the young girl with a hug.

Cooper jumped up from the swing right after his sister and wrapped his arms around Natasha eagerly. "We missed you!"

"It's only been a week," Natasha reminded them, but gave them a little extra squeeze anyway before letting them go. "I've been busy at work - your Dad has been slacking off, though," she teased with a smirk directed straight at Clint.

Clint frowned, looking exaggeratedly insulted. "Oh yeah? I'm gonna make you eat your words." he taunted, leading the way inside. As they walked through the house, Clint paused in the hallway and sighed. "Lila, get that _thing_ off the dinner table!" Lila giggled and wormed her way past the group, skipping into the kitchen and coming back into view with an enormously fat white cat in her arms.

"He was lonely!"

"He's a stray - he doesn't like people!" Clint retorted, rubbing the space between his eyes with the look of someone who's been through this situation at least ten other times in the past day.

Lila pouted. "He does too! He lets me pet him, and hold him!" She argued, turning her big eyes to Natasha. "Isn't he sweet? Daddy's being mean to him."

Natasha stroked the cat without any problems. "He's cute, I suppose." She wasn't really an animal person - what's the point in having to take care of something which doesn't give you anything back? At least children grew up. One thing she'd never understand was animal lovers. "Doesn't seem hostile," she pointed out, loud enough for Clint to hear, before she saw what he had done with the building works. "Woah."

His annoyed scowl transformed into a smug smirk. "Told you! I've been working on this all week." He led the way into the framework of the new room. "Hopefully it'll be done by the end of the month."

"Not bad," Natasha said approvingly as she walked into the new room. The base was done, with the whole outer framework already done. The roof was half completed, too. It was probably already waterproof, but it wasn't raining and testing it would be strange seeing as it wasn't finished. "I saw a good bed and mattress for sale; I look forward to trying it out with you," she said softly, winking at him.

Clint smiled a little at that, although he seemed to hide it considering the children were nearby. "I'll be waiting with bells on," he replied. Cooper cocked his head curiously.

"Are you gonna build _me_ a new room, Daddy?"

"No, buddy - your bedroom is perfectly fine the way it is," Clint replied, ruffling his son's hair.

Lila came out, still holding that huge feline. "Can Sprinkles have your old room? Pleeeeaaase?" She asked as innocently as she could.

Clint sighed. "Lila, that thing is not getting its own bedroom."

"Where did you even find Sprinkles?" Natasha inquired.

Lila perked up, snuggling her face against the cat. "He followed me inside after I played on the swingset! He loves me!"

"Honey, he probably thinks you'll have a huge stash of food for him. He's a stinky stray," Clint argued.

Lila pouted. "No, he's my best friend! He _loves_ me." She asserted.

Natasha took the stray, Sprinkles, from Lila and held him for a minute. "He looks very well taken care of - are you _sure_ he's a stray?"

The little girl looked troubled. "I… no…" She admitted, shoulders sinking a little.

"So… Sprinkles might have a family who's missing him a lot?" Natasha asked her, before glancing up at Clint.

"But…" Lila stared at the cat, denial flashing in her eyes. "But he followed _me_! He doesn't…" Her lip began to wobble and, sighing, Clint put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"I'm sure his family is worried sick about where he is. He needs to go home." He said gently. Lila sniffled, eyes getting watery.

"But I _want_ him!"

"And so does his family; they could be crying for him right now," Natasha pointed out.

Lila's heartbroken look got deeper before she finally nodded, tears slipping down her face. "O-okay. B-but how do we know if he does have a f-family?"

Clint looked thoughtfully at that cat that was currently trying to nibble on Natasha's hair. "He doesn't have a collar, so we don't have a phone number or address… we could tie a note with our phone number around his neck and then once his family finds him, they can call us and tell us he got home safe," he suggested.

Natasha sat down next to Cooper as she watched the youngest of the four of them cry. "Maybe you can get a pet for Christmas - that's only in a few weeks."

Lila whimpered but seemed to perk up a little at the thought. "C-could I, Daddy?" She asked with giant puppy-dog eyes, folding her hands under her chin pleadingly.

Clint looked down at her for a good five seconds before sighing. "We'll see. Now let's get this ball of stench back to his home."

Natasha leant back on the couch and looked at Cooper, who was grinning at her. "Could we really get a pet?" He asked quietly whilst Clint was pre-occupied.

"Depends - what did you want?"

Cooper spent a pretty long time thinking before listing a few options. "Guinea pig, or real pig, or a dog. I love dogs."

"I'll see what I can do… don't tell your father," Natasha whispered back, fully planning on getting them a pet, if Clint liked it or not. Maybe this was why people got pets, to annoy somebody else.

* * *

Natasha used Clint as a pillow as they laid on their new bed - which she bought - and admired the room. There wasn't really much furniture in the room, just a few boxes of Clint's clothes, the bed and her bag of clothes. She was thankful that he hadn't decided to just move his old room into this room, but knew they needed to decorate it in some way… or get chest of drawers. Her eyes focused on the stars which could be seen through the skylight, which was only one of the many amazing surprises. She hadn't known how well Clint could actually build.

"Are you sure you didn't get any help?" She asked him for the fifth time, still unable to believe it.

He chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest under her head. It was a nice sound. "I may have watched a few tutorials online…"

"A-ha, knew it," Natasha replied, glancing up at him. She contemplated whether or not to thank him for all of this, but that would be weird - who did that? Instead she continued to turn her head up and kissed him deeply. Although, they both groaned when his phone went off. "For once, it's not my phone."

Sighing, Clint leant over and snagged the offending phone from the bedside table- or the stack of boxes currently serving as a bedside table. He read the caller ID and let out another groan before answering. "Barton. Yes. … Yes. I understand." He said; the other end of the call was muffled and hard for her to overhear. "Wait, why is it being kept in New Mexico? … Really? You're kidding me. A ha-" He cut off as the other person started talking. He sighed. "Alright, alright. I'll be there in two hours." With that he terminated the call, massaging the bridge of his nose. He was quiet for a few seconds before turning to her. "I have a mission."

"So much for breaking in the room… when it's finished, anyway," Natasha replied grudgingly as she laid down on the bed. Her eyes opened as she realised he hadn't moved. "Aren't you going?"

He made a reluctant noise. "Well… today is Andrea's day off…" He said.

"And…?" Natasha asked him pointedly. How did that relate to him not leaving for the mission… unless he didn't want her babysitting the children. She had done it before… hadn't she?

Clint shrugged. "Well, I don't want to just ditch you with the kids - and I'm apparently going to be gone all weekend." He said, looking sheepish.

Natasha rolled her eyes, seriously, Clint could be really over dramatic when he wanted to be. "Just go, you idiot, I've got this."

He blinked. "You sure?" He asked, sounding a bit surprised. "I mean, I know babysitting isn't your favourite pastime."

"It's not babysitting, they're…" What? They're what? Natasha paused for a moment. "Go to the damn mission, Barton."

If he had seemed surprised before… Well, he was _definitely_ surprised now. The look on his face clearly said he wanted desperately to question her further on what she'd been about to say, but thankfully was smart enough not to push it. She knew there was a reason she kept him around. "Alright, alright. I'll leave my card in the kitchen so you can pick up a pizza for dinner tonight, if you'd like to." He said, pushing up from the bed and quickly slipping on a clean shirt. "If you could try to get them to do their homework at some point, that would be great, and I'm sure you know the rest of the spiel, right?"

"I know how to take care of kids - get out before I kick you out," Natasha grunted. Now he was making an effort to be annoying. She stood up, gave him a kiss and then literally pushed him out of the room. Clint chuckled, grabbed his go-bag and left, leaving Natasha alone in the house with the kids.

There was a few minutes where she listened to Clint gather his things, sneak upstairs to say goodbye to his sleeping children before grabbing something - probably unhealthy - from the fridge and leaving. She then pushed herself up into a seated position - so far, this wasn't the greatest first night spent at Clint's. She decided to make the bed properly; they had just thrown the sheets on after putting together the bed frame and throwing the mattress on.

Natasha couldn't help but venture into the main part of the house and look around; Clint, the children and Andrea had only been living in this house again for only a few weeks, but it looked completely different from when she had first seen it. Sure, there was still the same furniture, and mostly the same photographs - a few updated ones of the kids scattered around. The house remained really tidy - mainly thanks to Andrea. But there was a completely different vibe, and she couldn't quite pinpoint what it was.

For so much of her life, she had been broken down into what others wanted, and to this day, she was still broken. She was able to relate to Clint because he, too, had been broken and was also still broken in one way or another. It was weird to think that them being broken together made them almost whole - or completely whole.

Suddenly, something caught her eye; a picture frame hanging on the wall that she was _sure_ hadn't been there last time. But it wasn't the frame itself that caught her attention, but rather the photo - one of her and Clint. He'd insisted a while back that they take just one picture together, because he was Clint and he was much too sentimental, but she had eventually obliged and he proceeded to pull out his phone and take a picture of them holding each other. She'd forgotten all about it - it had been months ago.

Now as she finally looked at the final product of that little photo shoot, she found her eyes drawn to herself in the image. To the genuine happiness in her own eyes as she leant back against Clint, his arm around her shoulders. She had only ever experienced that sort of happiness once in her life - one that hadn't just been a fleeting occurrence. However, after Alexei died, and so did her hope of everlasting happiness, she hadn't imagined seeing that expression on her face again. It was almost a shock to her system to see that she was still capable of such joy - and that it had lasted this long.

Natasha was finally confident that this was absolutely where she belonged. Her whole life was falling into place, and she didn't even feel broken anymore.

* * *

 **Final A/N:**

 **A huge thank you to every single person who even clicked on this story, you all helped it to involve into what it is now! It's a very bitter-sweet moment for me, I'm glad that I was able to end this story in a sound way (before I ruin it). But, it's now ended... I did have loads of plans of integrating it with other Marvel films, but, I'm happy with ending it here - pretty sure most things wouldn't change anyway!**

 **I won't bore you all with a long A/N, just know that I am extremely thankful to you all and loved writing the majority of this!**

 **HAPPY DECEMBER! HAPPY CHRISTMAS! ENJOY THE NEW YEAR!**

 **Violet: I can't believe this is the end! Vanilla, our baby's all grown up!**

 **Seriously, though, thank you all so much for reading, favouriting, following, and leaving your lovely reviews! We had so much fun writing this and you guys are what makes it all worthwhile! :D**


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